Sympathy For The Devil
by When We Stand Together
Summary: There is a world ordinary people will never know about. To Bella it's been a curse, one that has forced her to leave her old life behind for good, or has it? AH, darker theme with violence. Better sumary inside!
1. Welcome To The Jungle

**AN: This is a story I have wanted to publish for some time now. I have no idea where the idea even came from but one day it got into my head and I just had to write it down. **

**I completely suck at summaries'. Especially for this story. If I say even one wrong word it'd give away the story or make it sound totally lame and ridiculous and I want people to make up their own minds. But I'm going to try my best to expand, though I should warn you now, it could be quite complicated to understand. I am the worst explainer in the entire world. Yep, I've now claimed the title! **

**Bigger summary: After starting college, Bella's picked up into a line of business she never thought existed nor intended on entering. ****It's been three years and she haven't seen anyone from her past, including her family and she's constantly in anxiety about how they would react if they ever knew what she did for a living.****Was that at all helpful or made you want to click away as fast as you can? Either way, I do hope you'll read on, whoever you are… And sorry for this huge Authors note. It won't be repeated. **

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_**Welcome To The Jungle **_

I've always hated clubs. They're too loud and crowded. There's always remixes blasting through the speakers (I prefer the originals) and the drinks are just too fucking expensive. I mean, who would ever pay over forty bucks for a bottle of water? Freaks.

As I'm walking across the floor, it appears my only concerned is the two – very tall and well endowed in the muscle department – men escorting me across said dance floor, I was all too aware of my surroundings. With my head directed forward like a good girl, I let my eyes wander across the room, surveying every possible exit and threats.

Two viable escape routes accountable for, with one possibility in the storage behind the bar. As for threats, that's a whole different story. Excluding Tweedledee and Tweedledum at my sides, five more lookalikes were spotted at the main entrance, another three for the back and I would sure, if there's another way out in the storage behind the bar, there would be an addition of at least two guards. That would bring a total of ten guards but I knew that wasn't even close to the whole picture. But here's the thing about clubs; security is pathetic. They don't know shit about blending in and if you know what to look for, they become visible like 'that'.

Double trouble led me to a staircase – nodding at the dude standing behind a red velvet rope to let us pass. They followed closely behind as I started climbing. It's like they don't trust me. I almost smiled.

At the top of the stairs there's the VIP area. Couples lounging on the sofas, chatting, drinking, snorting coke and laughing at whatever trivial statement was just addressed. Others were too busy making-out and dry-humping to notice anyone approaching.

But Tweedledee and Tweedledum led me away from all the fun and down a long corridor, with only one single door at the end. I knew all of this was simply a scare tactic. If they only knew what I've seen and done in my life, they would think twice about intimidating me with preschool material.

Tweedledee knocked once on the maroon door and waited two seconds before opening and pushing me inside. The door closed as fast as it had opened and I was left in semi darkness, staring at the man I'd been preparing to see for almost a month now.

Laurent.

The number one drug dealer in town.

That's what I'm here for – in a manner of speaking. Laurent's under the belief I want to make a deal with him. While he isn't completely out of the loop, there's just one thing he doesn't know about; by the end of the night, I will have his entire hard drive. Just imagine what there would be to find; phone numbers, account numbers, upcoming deals and meeting points. We'd have enough ammo to bring down companies and private civilians in the high hundreds. Maybe even low thousands.

Smiling leeringly at me, Laurent leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the armchairs, completely content with himself and the fact that he didn't seem to care there were four bags of coke on his desk.

"Melissa, I presume?" His French accent was unmistakable and heavy. I nodded, standing put where I was. Not because I was intimidated by a piece of shit like him who probably has bigger performance anxiety than Hugh Hefner, but because it's what someone who knows the business does. The inexperienced one's stand shivering against the door, fidgeting and avoid eye contact.

I hold his gaze now and will do so for the remainder of my visit. A lot can be told by and with the eyes and mine, I knew, never gave anything away unless I wanted them to.

"Please, sit down." I move briskly to one of the tacky chairs in front of the even tackier desk. I lean back and cross my legs, letting my hands fall just above my stomach. In this position, I will be prepared for anything.

"Would you like something to drink? Perhaps some merchandise?" He nodded towards a mirror filled with white dust. I peered at it from the corner of my eye, assessing the amount.

"No thank you." My voice gave away no emotions. Laurent nodded, no longer smiling but gazing curiously at me. While he certainly didn't look it, Laurent was no idiot. But, luckily for me and unlucky for him, he was a womanizing pig and underestimated what someone like me could be capable of. The shoulder-long blonde wig, pale pink lace camisole and dark ripped skinny jeans I was wearing were a complete distraction as Laurent shifted his gaze between my face and my boobs. This was going to be easy. Like taking candy from a child.

"You are not what I was expecting." I stayed quiet, my face set, emotionless. He frowned at my lack of talkatively.

"Not one to talk?"

"I'm not here to discuss my appearance. I'm here for the deal." Laurent rolled his eyes and sighed.

"And here I thought I would get a little bit of company."

"There are hundreds of people outside that door. I'm sure at least one must find you even moderately… _interesting_." Laurent frowned before breaking out in a wide smile and a chuckle.

"You're feisty. I like that."

"The. Deal."

"Yes, yes. I've got a contract your bosses can look over." When he stood and turned his back to me, I whipped my head around, assessing the easiest way to do damage without making too much noise. The party might be going strong but one too loud scream and I'm caught.

The room is on the smaller side. The tacky interior blended well with the tacky owner. But I would not be fooled by first impressions. I knew he was hiding some heavy artillery throughout the room. He had one in the top drawer of his desk. One was strapped to his ankle and I could see the outlining of another at his lower back. Aww… he probably thought that would intimidate me too. Fucking amateur.

"Here it is." Laurent leaned over his desk and handed me a stack of papers in a brown envelope. I stood to collect them. This was my moment and I couldn't waste it. I met Laurent's eyes and smiled a warm but mischievous smile.

"Thank you." While my left hand had a firm grasp on the papers, the right one moved too fast for him to see. One second it was at my side, the next it held a standard 2 mm pencil, going for Laurent's arterial artery. He wouldn't be able to scream at all if I hit just right.

I jabbed the pencil into his neck. Laurent gasped in pain and yanked away from me, backing into a filing cabinet before stumbling into a corner. His one hand instinctively came up to his neck while the other reached for the gun strapped to his leg. But I was faster.

Right as his gun became visible; I grabbed his left wrist and kicked him hard in the side. When he wouldn't let go of his gun, I bended my knee and jammed it into the wrist which in return slammed into another filing cabinet behind.

Letting out another gasp and groan of pain, Laurent struggled to do something and as I had kicked his gun across the room, he quickly saw there was no way out. I lifted my leg and pounded my foot into his face. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth. His head fell forward and his body slumped against the wall.

I bent down to look at the neck wound but found myself disappointed when there wasn't enough blood gushing out. So I hadn't hit the main artery. In a few hours it wouldn't matter. While Laurent may run his own business, it doesn't mean he's on his own. He reports back the same way I do. His bosses will take good care of him later on and I can sleep just a little better tonight.

I stood back up and went to the desk, putting on the vinyl gloves from my back pocket. I was right about the gun in top draw, by the way. But what I was really looking for was not with the gun. I hadn't expected it to be. But when I came to the third and final draw; Jackpot.

I grabbed the laptop and placed it on the desk. I pulled a USB chip from my pocket and pushed it into the side of the computer. Once it started, a password was demanded. I pressed in the necessary numbers and sighed in relief when it gave with. I didn't have time to conceal an entire laptop, this way I would be able to buy some time. They wouldn't notice right away that I've stole just about everything.

I placed the laptop back in its place and closed the drawer. I stopped at the mirror before stepping outside. They couldn't come in before I left the building. Unzipping my jacket fully and rumpling up my wig I looked freshly fucked. They'd never know the difference. I turned off all lights and left the room.

At the end of the hallway, Tweedledee and Tweedledum stood and waited for me. Tweedledum looked like he wanted to go inside but I grabbed his arm.

"I wouldn't go in there just yet. We got a little carried away and… you know," I giggled – and almost gagged from the noise. I am not a giggly person.

Tweedledum nodded and I left, creeping down the stairs as fast as I could without raising suspicion. I crossed half the floor before stopping dead in my tracks and gasp in shock. I whirled around, my pulse quickening for every second going by.

No… this can't be happening.

No, no, no, no, no…

It was carelessly of me to be distracted like that but if I just saw who I thought I saw, I was in deep shit if he recognized me. I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't. I've changed a lot in three years. But something told me my make-up and wig wouldn't completely fool him.

I quickly leapt towards the bar, sneaking in behind before the bartender could stop me and it wasn't until I was in the storage that I finally breathed out in relief. Once I was there and could think clearly, it was apparent I had jumped to conclusions. It couldn't have been him, just couldn't. It was just someone who looked a lot like him. That's all. Silly misunderstanding. What would he even be doing _here_?

I was right about the back door security. The two guards' playing a game of poker looked up at my arrival and their hands immediately went to their sides. My brain worked on pure reflex now. The guards would each be equipped with one standard police issued Glock 22 but I knew at least one rifle wasn't too far away. Their physique wasn't working in their favors and they both wore drunken faces. What I've learned over the years is that if there's anything to splurge on; it's security.

"Howdy fellas," I said cheerfully in the deepest southern accent I could manage. "Would ya'll be so kind and let a girl pass? My boyfriend's a real jealous one and I can't stand him when he's like that."

"You're not supposed to be back here." Hmm… Russian security. At least I know how they think.

"Please… he wouldn't think twice about hitting my pretty little face." I tried my best puppy dog face and even pouted. One of the guards sat down again, seeming to want to get back to the game.

"Prosto propustil yee," the one still sitting down said tiredly. At least he had a brain.

"Hozyain skazal, ne dopustit', chtoby kto-nibud' prohidit." Do you always listen to what the boss says?

"Kotoryĭ daet derʹmo?" The other guard didn't look please as he turned to me.

"Just get out of here quick."

"Thank you darlin." But that's when my luck ran out. A loud noise broke out, sounding like a fire alarm but I was experienced enough to know the difference. This was a lockdown siren. They much have found Laurent.

Shit.

I didn't have time to sugarcoat it now. I grabbed the nearest bottle and slammed it into the standing guards face. He crumpled down to the floor, wet with blood and reeking of vodka. I raised my hand with the broken bottle and slashed it across the other guards face. He screamed in pain but I kicked him in the groin before he could make too much noise. He went down fast, holding on to himself, his face scrunched up in pain.

I ran for the door but it was locked. I cursed while patting down the guards for the key. I could hear loud voices approaching and I had to find another way out. Taking a deep breath so I wouldn't panic – not that I was afraid, far from it. Adrenaline was surging through me. That's what was going to save me. It always does.

A small – almost too small – window was placed above a rack of shelves. I climbed as carefully I could – the metallic material swayed with the effort of added weight and I had to shove down items as I came to the top. I pushed against the window but it wouldn't budge. I started kicking it but it barely moved. I cursed again, feeling like I was trapped in a corner. I hate that feeling.

With loud and mad Russian voices coming closer, I had no more time to think I could get away quietly. I grabbed the nearest object and rammed it into the window, making it crash. I used the can of beans to make sure no shards would get to me. They were not going to get a DNA sample. As I was about to jump out, four tough looking Russians stormed the place and I felt the impact when one of their bullets shot into the concrete wall right above my head.

It was a shorter drop than I had planned and I landed right on my knee. I cursed in pain and stupidity of how I could have made such a careless and possibly life threatening jump. But there was no time to think about it now. I scrambled on to both legs and started running.

There was a flash of light behind me, a bullet grazing the brick wall to my right. I ignored it and kept on running. I am faster than most and even if someone was following me, they would never be fast enough to catch me.

Once out of the alley, I started walking slower down the street, careful not to look back. I made my way across a long asphalt lane and into a park. That's when I heard someone. I stopped in my tracks to listen better but the noise was gone. I wasn't going to take any chances and as soon as I swerved fast to the right, another shot echoes through the space.

I jumped over a small picket fence and ran through the back yard too fast for the tenants to see and then jumped over a second fence, this one noticeably larger. My arm scraped against the metal as I dropped to the ground and I could feel the skin had broken. But the guy was still behind me. I knew he wouldn't stop; he'd been trained not to so I had to think of something else.

Down the street, between two apartment complexes a narrow alley slipped between. I ran down and slipped into the crack. I smiled, noticing it's a dead end. I jumped easily up on a dumpster which was located right across a fire escape. I pushed against the wall and leapt across the space and managed to grab the bar with one hand and dragged myself above the small railing.

Once I was on it I pressed myself to the floor and waited for him. Not one minute later, Tweedledee joined me and for a second I was slightly worried he would have the upper hand but if he was as stupid as he looked, he'd go for the obvious kill.

He seemed confused by my lack of presence and went deeper into the alley, looking behind the dumpster to see if I wasn't hiding there. I'm much too smart for that.

When he was deep enough, I got up as quietly as I could and when he had his back to me, I jumped over the railing and landed gracefully on my feet behind him. He heard the impact and pointed his gun towards me but I was faster. My leg kicked his arm hard enough for him to drop the gun and me to kick up my other leg and hit him right in the kneecap. The schmuck fell to one knee and made a grab at me but I jumped away and kicked him right in the temple.

But Tweedledee apparently hadn't had enough. The idiot got up as fast as he fell and came at me. I jumped to the side and he crashed into the dumpster. He was faster than I thought and managed to grab me from behind. I bit his right hand and when he let go I yanked my elbow into his nose. He let me go with a grunt and held his hand above his nose which I could tell was bleeding.

I grabbed his arm as he attempted to punch me and twisted it behind his back, feeling he bones pop. I brought my knee up and jammed it into his back and he went down a second time. I grabbed the back of his head and used all my force to slam his face into he ground. I heard even more bones crack and when I was done and he finally emotionless, I saw blood trickle out from under him.

I was breathing hard and seeing red. It always pisses me off when they don't back down. And if they are going to be relentless, they should at least make it a little bit difficult.

I left Tweedledee and went to retrieve his gun and disposed of it in the dumpster. Then I walked out of the alley and strolled calmly down the empty and dark streets, hearing the police sirens fade out from behind me.

oOo

The docks were quiet this time of night. The salty smell of ocean always made me think of my former home – though I usually refrained from thinking about the past.

I sighed tiredly and grabbed the hair and drew it back over my head. I yanked off the sock that was keeping my hair in and after pulling away the black pins, my naturally curly, black colored hair let loose and fell down to just above my ribs.

I could hear the water slosh against the concrete walls of the harbor as I passed rustic building after building.

At any given time, the harbor looked like any other but taking a peek inside any of these buildings would quell all doubt that this was an ordinary place. The Vultury owned most properties around here – covering their grounds so to speak – but they only ever used one.

I came to the loading dock and climbed the stairs. The massive cargo doors opened for me automatically – they must have seen me coming, though I wasn't surprised, there are cameras everywhere.

I made a beeline for the main hall where we always gathered after missions were completed. I didn't wait for someone to tell me to come in but pushed them open with too much force.

The three brothers; Aro, Caius and Marcus all sat waiting for me. We didn't speak as I walked up to the massive oak table they sat behind and placed the small USB right in front of Aro. He took it up, inspecting it with his piercing eyes. After a moment he spoke in his usual soft and collected voice.

"It's marvelous, isn't it? How such magnitude of knowledge could fit inside such a small devise. Just sixty years ago, a computer took the space of an entire room." I said nothing but waited for him to address me.

Aro peered over me for a moment before looking away, placing the memory on the table again. When he met my eyes, they were the darkest I have ever seen. I've never been a person to admit she's scared but I am smart enough to admit that Aro scares the shit out of me.

"Take her downstairs for an hour." My blood turned to ice and my face drained of color. Downstairs was a nicely way of saying take someone to the basement to be tortured. I've been there a few times. Most were in the beginning when I refused to do as they said.

Once I was stripped down to my underwear, suspended in midair and while my arms groaned with the effort of supporting my weight, _they_ continually sliced at my exposed skin with a scalpel. But they never went further than shallow wounds that would heal within days. The pain was indescribable.

And that was only one of hundreds of times.

"What? I did as you asked. I got you the fucking hard drive!" Not many could get away with talking this was towards the brothers – Aro in particular – but I've been here long enough to know when it's acceptable and when it's not.

"Yes, but you were not completely successful in bringing it here."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You were followed." I wasn't surprised he knew.

"I took care of it."

"You wouldn't have to take care of it if you'd followed as you were instructed." While Aro rarely shouted, his calm voice was even more terrifying.

"I did follow as instructed. It's not my fault someone got a little too nosey."

"It is if you're paid to be invisible."

"Is that what I'm paid for? I thought it was because I'm the only one able to get the job done."

I could almost hear Jane hiss at me from behind Caius chair. She's always been jealous I was such a fast learner. I shoot her a narrow-eyed look. Aro's nose twitched, not appreciating my attitude. Well I wasn't appreciating being called inadequate just because I was followed half a block and was going to send me to the basement for it. I don't make mistakes. He knows I'm the best and he takes about every opportunity to screw with me.

"I'm not going to change my mind so why do you fight it?"

"Because I'm not gonna be sent to the basement for a petty little thing like this." Aro's mouth set into a firm line and he rose slowly, placing his hands on the table and leaning towards me.

"This _petty little thing_ could have exposed you and this entire operation. And believe me when I tell you that if ever caught, you will beg for death." I held eye contact, refusing to be intimidating. It was very hard. "You got distracted." I blinked. How did he-

"You had me followed?"

"Of course."

"I've been working on my own for over a year."

"But still, obviously, makes plenty of mistakes. Mistakes I would like to know about and I know you would never willingly tell me." We stared at each other before Aro broke contact first and sat down again.

"Who did you see?"

"No one. I was mistaken."

"And yet you froze in the middle of the dance floor, right where everyone could see you." I swallowed before responding.

"It was one mistake."

"And your exit strategy?"

"What about it?"

"You were supposed to leave quickly out the main entrance. And yet you purposely disobeyed my orders to jump out of a window and nearly get a bullet in your head?"

"It was one mistake."

"So you keep on saying but one mistake can change everything." That shut me up. I knew just how one mistake can ruin your entire life. "But of course you know all about that don't you?" I said nothing and I didn't hold eye contact any longer. It didn't matter what I would say, they were still going to take me downstairs.

I admitted defeat when my head bowed. Aro snapped his fingers, to which I winced. Felix and Demetri grabbed my arms and escorted me out of the main hall and down the longest flight of stairs you'll ever come across.

I was sizing myself up for whatever torture I would undergo tonight. I will never admit this out loud but I was scared. I hated pain and the only thing keeping me from falling down when hit is the adrenaline. I've tried to muster up some at a time like this but all I could think about was my previous experience and all amounts of courage disappeared and fear entered instead.

Felix let go of my arm to open an iron sliding door. I almost whimpered as I saw the metallic tub, its light content and the ice cubes floating along the surface. I knew better than to struggle but in moments like this, you don't think about what kind of training you've had. All you know it that the water is cold and cold equals bad so you try to resist for as long as possible.

Stepping away from us, Demetri checked the temperature. He nodded towards Felix – who I didn't have to look at to know he was smiling. With a too strong hold on my shoulder – to the point where I thought my collarbone would crack – Felix waited no longer and forced my face into the water.

It always felt the same and yet I always forgot until this very moment. The water felt like thousands of tiny knifes pushing against my skin. I crushed my eyelids close and waited for it to be over. Felix liked to wait over a minute.

When he forced me out I barely had time to take a breath before my face flushed down again. With each passing push and pull, it felt like I was drowning. I took in too much water when I went down and let out too little when I came back up. It was pure torture and finally, it got the best of me. I relaxed on pure instinct and everything went dark.

When I came too I was coughing up what felt like fifty liters of ice cold water. I knew I could never make a word – I could barely breathe.

I didn't get the time to think about anything before I was lifted and this time my entire body was pushed underneath the surface. I couldn't muster up any real energy to fight both of them and I was too tired to care anymore. My entire body ached with every move and I remember thinking that if they just kept me under a few more seconds and then I'd be gone for good. Of course they didn't. They weren't stupid.

I was brought back and slammed into a wall and left there for immeasurable moments before I got back some energy to get up. Felix and Demetri were gone by then and I was left alone in the dark space. I leaned against the wall for a while before getting up and walking out of the building and away from the harbor.

My apartment building was barely a 30 minute walk away but tonight it took twice as long. I felt like I could freeze in my spot and sometimes I thought I would die from the cold.

By the time I got into the elevator and pressed my button, I was well on the verge of hypothermia, if I hadn't already crossed that line.

The elevator opened and I walked down the hall and fished out my key. I dropped them in a bowl on a small table right beside the door and then walked purposefully to the bathroom. I started the shower and got in without taking my clothes off.

The warm water cascaded down me as I leaned against the beige tiled wall for support, until my legs couldn't support me anymore and I slid down the wall and kept my knees close to my body as I sat there on the floor.

I was shaking so bad my vision blurred sometimes and the water felt as if it were going to burn me. I knew it was only my body reacting to the warmth but I was tempted to turn it off.

My hair plastered to my face but I don't care. My eyes are barely opened as it was. This is one of those times where I think how I got here and what I could have possibly done to deserve a life like this.

I was a decent student – at least the times I showed up for school and wasn't sitting behind the bleachers smoking and/or drinking. I knew I put my parents through hell, though. Every time I got sent to the principal's office or all of the times the cops had to take me home from whatever illegal party I was at, my mom and dad would give me the biggest looks of disappointment. I knew I was hurting them. I knew it, cared and yet I continued to cut class, drink, smoke and stay out all night long.

The only one I knew I could always turn to was my brother, Jasper. But even as he gave me so many chances and I blew all of them, he never gave up. He was the one who convinced me to apply for college and he practically kicked me out of my room, telling me I was going and turning my life around. I will never admit this to him but that was the worst thing that could have happened to me.

I sometimes think of how they're doing. Of course I send post cards from where ever country I'm pretending to be in at the moment. I've sometimes called but I only talk to Jasper. My parents would scream or cry for me to come home, or worse – they'd tell me they are better off not having me around to complicate their living. I haven't seen any of them for three years.

It wasn't a rule you couldn't see your family or friends but I didn't want my family to see me like this. What would be worse would be for them to find out what I was doing. I don't think I could bare the resentment they would project at me.

Thinking about it like this, it's no wonder why I am where I am. I was truly horrible. Probably worse now. Why do I pity myself? It's such a waste of time and patience. I'm not a good person. I should just face karma the way it's presented itself to me.

The water turned cold and I got up, finally peeling off my soaking clothes. I let them lay in the shower, knowing I would never wear them again.

I redress in black sweatpants, a dark green military-looking tank top and pull my hair back in a mess bun. My stomach growled but when I opened the fridge and all I could find was Wake-Up energy drinks and eggs; hunger doesn't seem so bad.

The freezer wasn't looking any better. A pint of Ben & Jerry's Caramel Chew Chew and a few frozen mozzarella pizzas.

I close the fridge with a snort and gaze over the too empty space that is my apartment.

While most would kill to live here, I couldn't have been more oddly placed. The place was pretty, I guess, but completely empty. The living room held a single couch and a coffee table. No TV.

The kitchen was worse. Nothing except a toaster could be seen as something newly bought. The only "room" holding more than five items was my closet and it was surprisingly neat. Every item of clothing I owned was shelved, hung, stacked and labeled. Clothes were one of the very few things I splurged on. Mostly because I like Ed Hardy and pretty much everything I own is in it.

While I wasn't tired – even with everything I've gone through today – it was after 2 in the morning and what else would I do if I didn't go to sleep now? Stare at the city from my balcony? Or maybe just sit and stare at nothing at all? My life is so pathetic I don't know what to do with myself.

As I finally crawl beneath the soft covers exhaustion pulls me down and it's not long until I'm asleep, dreaming nothing but nightmares.

I'm not sure what woke me up but I'm glad for whatever it was. I was dreaming of my last day in college, the day they "recruited" me. You don't have a choice when the Voltury asks you to work for them. Either you go with them willingly, reluctantly or… the obvious choice; you are eliminated.

Beneath my pillow I keep my Colt 1911, ready to use if I should ever need it. I kept my eyes closed and gripped the gun tight and then jolted upright, the gun pointing at my doorway and then towards the balcony. Nothing was at either entrance.

I was breathing hard and fast, covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat. Sighing in relief, I put the safety back on, laid the gun back beneath my pillow and rubbed my face with both my hands. I was so paranoid these days, it wouldn't surprise me if I one day shot at my unmoving wall. It's barely past five in the morning and all I would like to do is fall back asleep but I knew it would be futile to even try.

It's twilight outside, making it seem as if the ocean is glowing. I grab the black cashmere blanket from the foot of my bed and make my way outside. I plant myself down on a tanning chair, watching twilight fade and the sun rise behind the horizon.

* * *

**AN: I'm not really sure where I'm going with this and I have no idea where the plot even came from. It was just here one second and seemed too interesting to forget. **

**And I have to say I like seeing Bella in this new light. In almost all other stories, Bella is this fragile damsel in distress and I absolutely hate the fact that Edward has to 'swoop in and save the day'. Why couldn't Bella be "stronger" and deal with nasty guys herself?  
****So is it a bit clearer why I had a hard time describing this story? **

_Translations:_

Prosto propustil yee – Just let her pass

Hozyain skazal, ne dopustit', chtoby kto-nibud' prohidit – the boss said not to let anyone pass

Kotoryĭ daet derʹmo – Who gives a shit


	2. Ghost Of Me

_**Ghost Of Me **_

When it started to get hot I went back inside, grabbing my laptop from the bedroom and placed it on the kitchen island. I retrieved an energy drink and waited to type in the password when there was a knock on my door.

Every time there was a knock I was on edge. Not many people knew I lived here. It wasn't even in my name. To everyone in the building and the State of California, my name was Laurie Strode.

I walked quietly to the door and peeked through the peephole. I breathed out in relief and annoyance at myself. I pulled the chain, unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

"Good morning shorty," Emmet grinned widely while I rolled my eyes.

"Good morning Barney." I let the door stay open and got back to my laptop.

"Hmm… dinosaur or man-whore?" I shrugged.

"Whichever you prefer."

"I can't decide. They're both awesome." Emmett went straight for the fridge. Like he always does. How very predictable.

"How very modern of you. Not many guys would willingly admit they'd like to be seen as a purple singing dinosaur whom, undoubtedly, fills your screen every Saturday morning." I typed in the password as I spoke and waited pop-up after pop-up for the screen to turn black.

"Shit shorty… you do know you have to eat or you'll die?" I sighed, clicking on the browser.

"You die either way," I muttered, going to LA times to see what the public knew about last night. I couldn't have been that obvious but Aro's lack of reassurance had me on edge.

"So…" I look up to see Emmett staring pointedly at me. I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"How'd it go last night?" His tone made me frown and I looked back at the articles in front of me.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Of course not." Emmett wasn't one to lie. Not because he was a goodie-two-shoes but because he liked to be raw and honest.

"It was one mistake. No, it wasn't even a mistake, it was fucking hiccup. Why's everyone beating down my throat?"

"You froze."

"For two seconds, tops."

"What happened?"

"Are you going to report back?" Emmet looked almost mad at my statement.

"I would never do that to you and you know it." That is exactly why I tolerated Emmett, even liked him. On a strictly friendship level.

Emmett and I met about a year ago. He'd been out on an assignment for a few months and when you're in training, you don't meet anyone but your "trainers" and the bosses.

I'm not sure just how Emmett got into this line of "work". He never talks about it and I'm not one to pry so I never ask but I'm not going to lie and say it hasn't crossed my mind once or twice.

Emmett's a truly decent guy. He knows when not to ask and usually don't think before he speaks – something that's always amusing. But believe me when I tell you; you do not want to get on his bad side. The guy's like a machine; works on pure instinct and adrenaline… he rivals to Felix and I'm pretty sure he can take him. I have had a few shots myself – just for fun – and although I might be faster, he's stronger and my back hit the floor within a minute.

"I don't know what happened," I revealed with a sigh. "One second I was walking down the dance floor and the next I just…"

"Froze?"

"Yeah…" I bit my lip as I pondered how to say the rest. "I think… I must have inhaled too much coke in that room but I could have sworn I saw…"

"Yes?"

"Someone I used to know." Emmet pursed his lips for a moment.

"I'm getting vibes I shouldn't ask-"

"So don't."

"_But_-"

"You're going to anyway?" Emmett leaned his elbows against the island, fiddling with napkin, tearing it to pieces. He was waiting for me to say something. I leaned back in my chair, highly annoyed by all the questions.

"I thought I saw… a guy I used to know." Looking up, Emmet raised both his brows.

"A guy who?" I usually referred from talking about my previous life. It didn't matter anymore and since I could never go back in time and change one stupid decision, it wasn't worth mentioning.

"Just someone I used to know."

"Do tell my friend," he said, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk on his face.

"First off, he's my brother's best friend – or at least he was. I haven't seen both of them in a while. And secondly, I was mistaken. It couldn't have been him."

"Why not?"

"He lives in Forks. Why would he be in LA?"

"Vacation?" I shook my head.

"He's not the type to go to LA for vacation. He'd go to Spain or Greece."

"You knew each other well?" That was an understatement, but just because I was admitting I had a second of panic, doesn't mean I'm about to share my whole life's story. Even if I trusted Emmett to keep it to himself.

"He's my brother's friend. We knew each other enough." I wasn't saying anymore about it and Emmett knew it from my tone of voice.

"Maybe you should call your brother. He could tell you where this dude is – that's if they still keep in touch." I stared at him.

"I don't like calling him. Makes me feel guilty."

"Why?"

"Because he literally makes me feel guilty – talking all the time about how I should come home, how much they all miss me and whatever."

"Maybe it's time you go and see them."

"Yeah, that is not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"I won't let them see me like this, all broken and weak."

"You're not weak." I shook my head but didn't say anything as I shifted my eyes down and skimmed through the small article about last night's activities.

_Drug Lord beat down _

_Last night, in one of Los Angeles well covered night clubs, reported Drug Lord 'Laurent' was rushed to the hospital with severe neck injuries. A source says he was meeting with someone in the entertainment industry and that things might have gone sour when payment became an issue. _

"_It was so crazy! One minute we were all having a good time and the next this fire alarm broke out, the music stopped and these guys went wild, running around with guns and yelling at each other" – a witness tells us who wish to remain anonymous. _

_Also, an unidentified male was found not half a mile away. He was rushed to the hospital with mild injuries. Sources say he's going to make a full recovery. It is not known whether his demise had anything to do with the club. But a safe source tells us there could be a connection. The police have not arrested anyone at this point. _

I frowned at the text and shut the lid on the laptop.

"How much do they know?"

"If you count them thinking I'm a hooker; nothing. Why? Do you doubt me?"

"Don't be so defensive. Now, get dressed. We're going to the gym and then I'll even buy you lunch."

"How kind of you."

"I know. I just keep on giving and giving."

oOo

Even though my entire body was aching, skipping workout wouldn't do any good. We ran for about an hour before moving to the punching bag. My hand still stung from last night. I hadn't noticed it before but this morning I saw the red marks and broken skin all along my knuckles. Even after I taped them, it still hurt like a bitch.

"So… tell me about the guy." I stopped punching for one second, breathing hard.

"We're still on that?"

"I'm just making small talk." I started punching again and kicked my shin at the bag.

"I thought you were my friend not my shrink."

"Sometimes it's good to vent."

"I don't need to vent. I'm fine."

"Your mouth says one thing but your actions say another."

"What actions?" I snorted and kicked the bag hard enough for Emmett to take a step back.

"Shit, don't kill me! You said it yourself you froze because you thought you saw him. He must have meant something to you. I think you liked him."

"I think you're delusional."

"I bet he liked you too."

"Is this where you start to rhyme?"

"Come on. I need to have something to keep me going. My life's pathetically boring right now."

"I thought you were screwing that blonde from the restaurant."

"Yeah but she's not too good of a conversationalist."

"Not like me?"

"No but I'm probably gonna have to trade you in soon. You make me feel stupid." I smirked and got in the last punches before we were done for the day.

"What else do you have planned for today?" I shrugged. Truthfully… I had nothing planned. My life was ironically dull in comparison to other _normal_ people.

"Good. Then we can go shopping." I started at him as if he'd lost his mind. Don't all guys hate to shop? Isn't that like a universal law or something? "For electronics. You need a TV. You're loaded Bella. Take some advantage of it."

"Just because you bought everything at Best Buy."

"You don't have to get everything. Just a TV. And maybe a TiVo. And maybe some-" but I cut him off before he could rabble up the entire collection of whatever he thought I would want.

"I'll see you soon." I turned into the girls locker-room and grabbed my towel before making my way to the showers.

There was no one else there and the deafening silence was taking its toll on me, only making me realize just how alone I really am. But in the end, everyone's alone. It was little comfort.

As I peeled off the tape I kept wincing at the stinging pain and once after removing the pieces, my hands were covered in blood. Luckily, the wounds were shallow and would be healed within a week.

The water did nothing to improve the uncomfortable feeling. I started to shake as I shampooed my hair and as soon as I'd rinsed out the conditioner, I shut off the water and tried to stop shaking long enough to get the towel wrapped around me.

It was difficult getting dressed. The bruise on my shoulder had deepened to a sickening purple and I think my collarbone may have been fractured. But I was not going to have it checked out. People don't die from bruises and a little pain. It's pathetic to see a doctor for every little thing.

"You should get that checked out," Emmet said as we sat down at the restaurant, way in the back corner.

"It's fine. I'm not going to act like such a fucking girl. And it's not like it's going to kill me." The waiter came and gave us two menus to look through and filled out glasses with ice water. He took our orders, but because of how many times we've been here, he probably already knew what we wanted.

"Not to piss you off but what are we doing on that impending b-day of yours?"

"Nothing."

"Aw come on. You're turning twenty-two."

"I've never care about my birthday. And it's over two months away."

"Then it's time to start isn't it? And it takes time to plan."

"Look… the only thing I'm planning to do is call my brother, get really, really drunk and wallow in self pity and console myself with the fact that I'm one year closer to the sweet relief of death."

"That's… really disturbed." I inclined my head and took a sip of my water.

"My life is disturbed." Our food arrived then and we settled into an easy conversation.

"What about this one?" Watching Emmett at Best Buy is like watching a kid go crazy at Toys R Us. Not that I have ever done that but I'm sure it would look like this.

"I'm not getting that one."

"Why not?" Now he even sounded like a kid.

"It's fifty inches. I don't need it."

"That's not why we're here. It's because you're supposed to _want_ it, not _need_ it."

"Seems pointless to me."

"You should be Amish," Emmett grumbled but moved away from the intimidating flat screen and onto another.

"You do know you're the one who's going to have to put all this up?" I said as I pretended to care what I was looking at.

"Of course. You'd probably just leave it in the living room and leave it there forever."

"True. Just get the red one up there and a DVD player – not a Blue ray. I'm rebelling against those."

"Fine. But you're getting the TiVo."

"Fine!" I hissed. "Get everything eco-friendly. I'm trying to compensate."

"You're so weird." I left him alone after that to browse through the DVD selections.

I used to be a movie fanatic. Now days I told myself I didn't have time for such "luxuries" but it was a cheap shot at punishing myself. I grabbed a few interesting looking horror movies before finding Emmett.

I sighed and raked my hand through my hair in annoyance as I spotted Barney talking animatedly to a store salesman. This was going to take forever and I have minimum to no patience. I moved through the store and pressed the movies to Emmett.

"Here, I'm gonna wait outside." He didn't have time to say anything as I almost ran out of there.

The parking lot was filled with a sea of colorless cars. The way people almost always chose a neutral colored vehicle fascinated me. Though I rarely drove it, my 1966 mustang convertible would seem alien had it not been blue. Okay, so maybe I splurged on some things. But every time I buy something too expensive I always feel guilty for spending money I earned in such a brutal way that I always donate anonymously amounts of money to amnesty of whatever organization I wound up clicking to first.

I sat down on a bench next to the entrance and crossed my legs beneath me. The sun felt too hot against my head and I was starting to develop a headache. When I shifted so my back was leaning on the armrest, I noticed a shape across the street. It had been there one second before disappearing behind the corner of a 7Eleven gas station.

I kept my head down, only peering up to see if my own sense of paranoia wasn't deluding me. No. There was someone staring at me. The feeling had me on edge and I pulled out my phone to send Emmett a quick text.

'_I'm leaving. Got stuff to do. See you later.'_

I grabbed my bag, slung it to my shoulder and walked away quickly.

I marched next to stores with huge display window, only using the corner of my eyes to see who was following me. In the limited sighting, I noticed he was older. Not grandpa old, more like mid- to late thirties. He wore a white fitted t-shirt with dark jeans. He pretended to be talking into his cell phone as he looked straight ahead and walked purposefully after me. For three blocks he never left me alone and it was slowly starting to piss me off.

I toyed with the idea of Aro sending someone to follow me. I had no doubt he would go to such lengths, even on assignment free days. Though Aro would never hire someone this amateur and obvious.

Which leads back to who the guy might be. I've gone in a circle for ten minutes and he was not relenting. I sighed and slipped through a crack between two apartment buildings and waited just around the corner for the idiot to get in sight.

Pressing myself to the wall and having my entire body tense up, this was going to be easy. Despite seeming to pack something more than a brain, he – who I took the liberty of calling Ducky until further information may possibly be given – shouldn't be too hard to bend to the wall… That came out completely different than I thought it would.

I slowed down my breathing and as soon as his shadow touched the ground next to me, I turned around the corner, grabbed the suckers arm and moved away from the wall while simultaneously bending his arm around his back and crushing his face to the bricks.

Letting out a yelp of pain, I swore the schmuck was going to cry. I pinned his free hand to the wall also while making sure he could never get the upper hand.

"Why are you following me?" I all but growled into his ear.

"You're going to break my arm." I chuckled darkly.

"Nah. To break your arm I'd have to straighten it out and then bend it in a very unnatural angle. Now answer my question."

"I was hired to find you." My hold weakened for a moment before I snapped out of it.

"Excuse me?"

"I was hired to find an Isabella Swan. I'm a private investigator." I let him go immediately and backed away, feeling my breath leave my lunges.

"No, no, no, no, no… When?"

"So you already know who hired me?"

"I think I've got an idea. Charlie Swan?" The PI nodded, reached into his pocket and handed me a picture. Of me. It was very old. It was strange to see how I've changed in just three years. Although, three years is a long time when you do think about it.

I used to have long chestnut hair, reaching down to my elbows. My previously almost make-up free eyelashes- and lids, were now almost always covered in mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow. Not because I'd gone completely Goth, but because I genially liked the look.

I dropped my hand to my side after giving him back the photo. The PI blew out a breath in a whistle, studying me.

"You were not easy to find." I shook my head with a humorless laugh.

"Apparently all too easy." I crossed my arms and leaned against the opposite wall. "When did he hire you?"

"Almost two years ago." I felt like my dog just died. If I'd actually ever owned a dog and knew of the loss.

"Did he at least give a reason?"

"According to Mr. Swan, you left college and your family without a reason. He was sure you left forced." Even though I was deeply saddened by this, I also felt mad. Charlie has no filter which means he doesn't know when to back off. If the PI had found me in two years, shit only knows what he could know in another two.

But this wasn't the place to ask my questions. People were watching us and I couldn't afford to have people talking. Not that I knew many here but the ones I saw down the hall or whatever could still get suspicious.

"Walk with me." I grabbed his arm and lead him away from there.

We walked up the street for a few minutes before I thought we weren't followed or listened to.

"What's your name?"

"George Steven." First name last name? So weird...

"Okay, Steven. How did you find me?"

"Your father told me how you dropped out of college to move to Rome and so I went there but there was nothing of value at the address you provided. It took me three months to understand that you were nowhere to be found. I called in with your father to tell him you must have lied but he'd just gotten a new letter from you. You were in Germany. I stayed there for two months before another post card came and then it was Spain but you were only there for two weeks. Then Brazil for a month and then across the globe to Australia. And then-"

"Wait. You went to all these places?" He nodded. "How much has this cost my father?" He seemed reluctant to answer. "Unless you want a repeat of what happened in the alley, I suggest you answer."

"I'm not sure. But there's always money in my bank account at the end of every month."

"My father doesn't have that kind of money. Unless he won the lottery but I highly doubt that."

"I don't know how he gets the money but he does." I tried to pick up any hint of deception but even with his nervous stuttering, he knew he was telling the truth.

"So how did you find me? The short version."

"Over a year after your father hired me; I went to him and said I had failed. You disappeared and I thought you were dead. A Jane Doe in a morgue or an unmarked grave. He didn't seem to like my answer and wanted me to go to the University of Washington. I did and that's when I got the first real lead that you had actually existed. I spoke to some of your classmates. You'd only been in school for two months so not that many knew you but-"

"Yeah. I already know this part. Skip to the end."

"Someone saw you leave in a dark car with a California license plate." I stopped walking. Even though this guy was clearly in the wrong line of business at the moment, I saw this as a window to maybe push down Felix, Demetri and Heidi. After all, they're part of the reason I got into this.

"Did they now?"

"And then I went to California. I've been here for over six months, looking city after city. I've shown your picture everywhere but now I see why most wouldn't recognize you."

"You should have just backed off."

"Excuse me? I've spent close to two years tracking you and now that I've found you, I get to be the one to tell your father I've found you and that you're well." Oh but I'm really not. I whirled around, stopping him from taking another step.

"No, you're not."

"What?"

"You're not going to report back. You're not going to tell my father you found me and you're definitely not going to tell him how I'm doing." I knew he got nervous by my venomous tone but I pretended not to care.

"Bella your father is very worried about you. He deserves-"

"He deserves to know when to back off. He shouldn't have hired you. That was a mistake."

"But why wouldn't you-"

"You're not the one asking the questions here. Just so we're clear, you're going to tell my father you were unsuccessful."

"And if I don't?" Why did he have to make it difficult?

"I can promise you don't want to find out."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes." He was taken aback by my answer and stared at me as if I'd lost my mind.

"And if I got to the police-"

"You'll never make it there."

"Who are you?"

"Don't ask silly questions." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to figure something out. "Look. I'm trying to help you here."

"Oh really? Because it seems like you just threatened to kill me." I chuckled darkly.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're just a pawn. A small and easily disposable pawn and if you value your life, you'll forget you ever saw me. You'll _call_ my father, tell him you couldn't find me and then disappear with the money you've gotten over two years. Agreeable?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Good." I turned on my heel and started to walk away.

"Wait." I didn't. But Steven jogged up to me and grabbed my arm to stop. I started at his hand for a long time before he grew a brain and yanked it away as if I'd burned him.

"What?"

"You can't just say that and then leave. It doesn't work like that?"

"What doesn't? Life? In case you haven't noticed, life's a bitch. And I can do what the fuck I want. I've already talked longer than I should have. For your own sake. You should go back to you hotel room, back up your stuff and go to Africa or something. I'm leaving now."

And I did. Right to the harbor. On the way, I picked up my cell phone.

One "perk" of working for the Volturi is the gadgets. While we may have been innocently talking, my phone was reading everything inside George Steven's phone. Just a switch of sim cards and my phone is transformed. If his takes or makes a call, I'll have a front and center spot. The same with texts and pretty much everything he'll type into his little device.

Like a good little boy, he didn't use his phone once from the time I left him to the time I wound up at the Volturi headquarter. That word sounds so lame transitioning into an even lamer Jean-Claude Van Damme movie. I really wished this was just a movie.

I shook my head at the ridiculousness of the whole day. It had left me emotionally exhausted and I couldn't even begin to think about what the PI had said.

"Where's Aro?" Caius was the only one in the gathering hall. I was losing me patience with him not answering after one second, being too busy looking me up and down.

"Not here." I rolled my eyes.

"I gathered."

"Whatever you have to tell my brother, you can tell me and I'll pass the message along."

"Mmmm… yeah… not happening."

"Don't you trust me? I feel so betrayed."

"Don't act like you've got any human emotions." Caius nodded, agreeing.

"That's true."

"Okay I don't have the patience for this. There's been a security breach." His head went up a little in interest.

"Keep talking."

"I'm not saying another word till Aro gets here." When Caius eyes shifted to right behind me, my whole body tensed.

"Aro." And there he was, looking thoughtful as he came to my side and placed his hand on my shoulder. I tried not to flinch away.

"I do appreciate your loyalty and I while the seemingly first-to-know knowledge should always be me," I did not miss Caius eyes roll dramatically; "in this case, it's not necessary."

"What are you talking about?"

"I already know about the private investigator."

"You do?" I wasn't really surprised. Aro has eyes and ears everywhere all the time.

"Yes. Though I'm not completely aware of what you two shared as far as conversation goes, I am aware of his ties to your family." I swallowed, casting my eyes downward.

"Bella. Relax. I was afraid something like this would happen one day since you've shut out your past life. But at least this small breach has been taken care of."

"What are you- is he?"

"Gone? Yes." I tried not to let guilt fill me up. "It was… unavoidable, I'm afraid. If it could have happened another way…"

"He didn't deserve to die. Is that what we're doing? Killing private investigators because they were hired by an overprotective parent?" Aro's expression turned somber and he turned towards his brother."

"Could you give us a minute, Caius?" Caius sighed heavily but got up nonetheless and left the room without a word. Aro turned to me, his hands pressed together as he peered at me.

"Bella. I know how you feel about being here. How alone you feel every time you go back to your apartment. But we are not the evil you think we are."

"No?" I asked skeptically. Aro shook his head.

"Of course not. We exist to restore peace and balance to the world." I couldn't help but huff. "It's true. Whether you believe it or not. But in order for us to remain and keep doing the good work we are doing, we need to be kept a secret. Can you imagine the outcome if we are to be revealed? The panic? People always fear what they don't understand."

"Maybe it's not our place to direct."

"Then who has that responsibility Bella? The wife who stays with her abusive husband? The legal system that sends guilty back on the street and innocent to the needle? It's an imperfect world, yes, but we can't let regular people, who have no idea about real life, decide for other people."

While I would never truly believe anything he just said about us being good and that we live for peace, I knew he was right about the exposure. It would destroy everything and if the Volutry was revealed, we would all be eliminated and that would suit no one.

"On another note; do you want to fill me in on how a simple private investigator was able to track you down here?" Aro asked, getting back to the main topic. I had to freeze my face as not to smile. I don't think I was completely successful.

"Someone saw me getting into a car with a California license plate." Aro's lips twitched in disgust at such a small and insignificant mistake.

"That is unacceptable, of course. Don't worry. They won't go unpunished." I nodded in appreciation.

"Speaking of which, your father's attempts at finding you are troubling." It took me almost too long to answer.

"I promise you, something like this won't happen again. I'll keep in touch better." Aro shook his head and paced slowly around the room.

"I'm afraid that won't be enough."

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe it's time for you to go home." My body grew cold and I knew my fingers were shaking.

"I'd rather not."

"It wasn't a suggestion Isabella. We cannot afford anyone to be suspicious and this private investigator has me on edge. We'll have to be more careful from now on and the best way would be for you to go home for a few days or perhaps a week."

I knew it was out of discussion to talk back to him so I nodded reluctantly.

"Marvelous," Aro said cheerfully. "You should leave as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning will do fine. I'll have a car pick you up." When he saw I was going to protest, Aro held up a hand. "We are not sure if that investigator opened his mouth to the wrong people or wrote down something. We have to act now." I turned to leave and got to the door before Aro spoke again.

"Oh and Bella," I stopped and turned my head. "I'm sure you'll be as discrete as possible… but let's not make any life altering decisions now, okay?" I nodded somberly and left the room.


	3. Back In Black

_**Back in Black **_

By the time I got home, Emmett was already there, packing up my – really his – new toys. He was surrounded in Styrofoam and some even got stuck on his face. I would have laughed but I couldn't even muster a smile after the afternoon I just had.

"How's it going?"

"Phenomenal. I love the smell of unraveled plastic and it always makes me smile to prick the bubbles." My lips twitched but that was about as much emotion I could manage.

"Why the frown face shorty?"

"Like you don't know." Emmett sighed as I plopped myself down on the couch and planted my feet angrily on the coffee table.

"It might not be so bad."

"Not bad? They killed the PI. How's that not bad?"

"I meant that you'll get to see your family." I sighed hard, letting my head fall back.

"I haven't even had time to think about that."

"You have to soon enough. You're leaving at six a.m."

"Six?"

"Just relax and enjoy the time off. Some would literally kill for two weeks."

"Two weeks?"

"Aro didn't tell you that?"

"He said a few days, _maybe_ a week." Avoiding eye contact, Emmett dug himself into the ripped box and started mumbling unintelligent words.

"Fucking perfect." Trying to press my eyes into the back of my brain, I sunk into the soft cushions and pulled out my phone, trying to determine if I should call… but ultimately deciding against it. Maybe I could just fly to Seattle but not go further than that. I could hide in the hotel. Not a flawless plan but doable.

"What's going on in that head of yours? I can practically see the wheels turning and twirling."

"Just thinking about my options."

"Options?"

"Maybe I can fly to Seattle and just not go to Forks. No one would ever know." Emmett stared at me with pursed lips.

"You know that will never work, right?"

"And why not?"

"Aro knew you were talking to a private investigator that was hired by your father before you even made it back to the harbor. That was, what, one, maybe two hours? He's gonna know you never showed up at Forks and force you there, literally." I gave him the evil eye.

"You know what you need?"

"If you say get laid, I'll kick your ass." Emmet boomed a laugh.

"Like you could. And while that is soon to be an issue, it's not what I meant. You need a drink. Or maybe twenty."

"That's all?" I asked and followed him with my gaze as he got up and tried to get off the last pieces of Styrofoam from his clothing.

"Yeah. Now get dressed and follow me."

"I don't really-"

"Just go with it. I'll feel all pathetic going by my lonesome." He actually pouted at me until I got up and disappeared into my bedroom.

oOo

It was still early by the time we arrived at the bar. As soon as we stepped in, Emmett disappeared from my side and I walked up to the bar and took a seat. I downed my first shot of tequila before it barely touched the coaster. I ordered another one ten seconds later.

"One who likes her liquor, my kind of girl." Like I haven't heard that before.

"Trust me; I'm not your type." The guy wasn't even worth remembering and I have absolutely no idea how he looks like.

"How would you know?" I laughed. It's so silly. I could literally snap this twig in two pieces and he wanted to know why we would never hook up. Everything seems so silly at times.

"So how does your boyfriend feel about you sitting over here all alone? Troubles?" I rolled my eyes. This dude really couldn't take a freaking hint.

"Why is it so hard for guys to downright come out and ask if I have a boyfriend instead of going to such lengths of already assuming I have one? Is it just to have me confirm I'm single so you can come in and swoop me off my feet? OR does it have something to do with the infamous male ego?" The guy looked at me like he hadn't understood a word.

"That's your cue to leave." He frowned at me, trying to mentally convince himself his masculinity was still intact and that I'm a lesbian or too stupid to understand just how attractive he is.

Douche.

"Look on the bright side, now you know who the biggest jackass is in here." I turned and saw a somewhat attractive guy sitting to my left.

"Really? You sure you're not going to top that spot?"

"Ouch," he joked while nursing an unwounded ego. He gave me a once over before smiling a 'golden' smile. In my world, that means I would bet he grew up with the most suburban lifestyle imaginable. I also bet he even had a golden retriever. "I'm Riley." I raised my brows fast and let them drop even faster in recognition.

"Laurie."

"So, can I get you a drink or…" he started to say but as he saw my filled shot, his voice quieted down. "Well I guess you don't need any help in that department."

"Nope."

"You know, you really shouldn't sit alone if you don't want guys to hit on you."

"Duly noted."

"I'm sorry. Am I boring you?" I shrugged.

"Not enough for me to beat you away with a stick."

"Feisty."

"Let me guess; you like?"

"Actually I don't."

"Then why are you sitting here?"

"You're interesting."

"Really?" I ask, not the least bit curious. I was pondering where I could possibly know this guy from. He looked so familiar.

"Yeah. You're probably the most gorgeous girl in the room and you don't seem to care."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Sorta… Makes you wonder though."

"About?"

"About what could have happened to make said girl this sad."

"What makes you think I'm sad?"

"You're sitting in a bar alone. Most people prefer some sort of company. Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Do you always ask this many questions to someone you've just met?" I shot back and downed the tequila, feeling the liquid burn down my throat and settle hot in my stomach.

"Touché. But I've got to go so I'll see you around."

"Whatever," I muttered but he was already gone by the time I turned around. That's when Emmett made his appearance and plopped down next to me with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"What's with you? Did you fuck someone in the bathroom?" Laughing, he shook his head.

"Nah. I just really like booze. Where would civilization be without it?"

"Where indeed. You know… I'm going to take off now. I have to be up early, if I even manage fall asleep. I'll see you when I get back." I pretty much ran out of there and got halfway down the street before Emmett grabbed my arm so hard I couldn't get away.

"Hey. What's going on?"

"What's going on? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Shit, you don't have to scream."

"Then don't ask such a stupid question Em… You don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

"Anything. Do you realize what's going to happen tomorrow? I have to go back to _Forks_ and see my family who I was okay with not meeting again. I made my peace with that three years ago. And now I have to go home and act my way through two weeks because even though they are going to act normal, I can't because to me, normal is beating the shit out of people for money. That's why I don't want to see them. I don't want them to see me like this."

"See you like what?"

"This!" I motion over myself. "I'm basically a monster."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am! Don't try to deny it. We're all monsters for what we do. Aro may play it like we're saving the world or whatever, when we're really just eliminating threats to Voltury."

Emmett didn't answer.

"I'll see you when I get back. But for future references, don't expect me to start acting as if I still have a life. I can't ignore the obvious."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away. Emmett didn't try to stop me.

oOo

It was dark by the time I got to the apartment. I felt exhausted and my shoulders ached as I grabbed a large bag from the top shelf of my closet to put some clothes in.

I didn't look too closely as I packed, mostly shoving down items at random while trying to keep my mind empty but I could only do that for so long.

I didn't want to think of the questions they would have tomorrow. It was too intimidating and made my palms shake enough to drop several items on the floor.

After my bag was full I lay down in my bed to try and get some shuteye before having to leave in two hours but sleep would not come to me. I stared at the ceiling until the sun came up and my phone rang once for confirmation that the car was downstairs. I got up, locket the door, rode the elevator down and got into the expensive Mercedes, automatically.

The driver didn't say a word to me. He was well trained. One tried to make conversation and with the look I provided, I wasn't surprised when he quite the following morning. No, this one was good. Didn't have the radio on, didn't talk on his cell. Shit, I couldn't even hear him breathe. Very decent. The dude even opened my door as we stopped in front of the airport.

He retrieved my bag from the trunk and handed it to me. But then he made the mistake of opening his mouth.

"Have a safe flight Miss Strode." My frown was permanent as I walked through security.

I felt exposed by having to check my bag. But I doubt anyone would ignore my Colt 1911 and mercworx, both small and large.

The woman behind the counter smiled warmly but it only made my frown deeper. She took my bag, gave me my ticket and walked without stopping to the gate and was one of the first ones on the plane.

Of course I was in first class. No doubt Aro's way of trying to make up for his behavior. He could never give me what I truly wanted. Freedom. Everything else seemed like ass-kissing to me. He knew he was screwed without me. I'm excellent and I'd be too much of a loss if I were to 'disappear' one day.

My legs started to jump with nerves as the plane filled. Flying is never something I enjoy. To be fair I usually have a bottle of Xanax with me but somehow it escaped me to bring some this time. I even started biting the nail of my thumb as the seatbelt sign lit and the engines started.

"May I get you anything?" I twisted my head fast to the right and saw a male steward standing next to my seat with a cart in front of him.

"Uh… vodka, rum? Whichever, both?" The steward raised his eyebrow at me and I sighed. I usually never had to show id but kept one close either way. He seemed satisfied with the fake authenticity and gave it back, along with two miniature bottles, more fit for a dolls tea-party than an actual human with serious height issues.

"Nervous flyer?" I unscrewed the metallic lid.

"That obvious?" I threw my head back and downed half the bottle.

"Just a little," The steward – who I now read was named Steve – looked nervously at me.

"Bye Steve." I looked him straight in the eyes and he shrugged back.

I finished the vodka but it didn't make me feel better. If anything it made me more jumpy and I kept watching my clock every five seconds. I grew both relieved and nervous by the fact that a minute seemed like an hour. I wanted off the plane but as soon as I got to Seattle, I'd wish to be back on the plane.

Unluckily for me, the flight was barely two hours and with the final bump and the scorching sound of tires hitting the pavement, I stepped into a familiar rainy atmosphere. The water trickled down the windows and didn't seem it was going to relent for a while.

Right after grabbing my bag from the conveyor belt, a short and balding man wearing an extremely cheap suit stood near the exits, holding a sign, reading; 'Miss Strode'. I walked straight ahead, stopping right in front of the man, studying him. A golden wedding ring was barely visible on his pudgy finger. His tie was loosened and he seemed to be breathing much too hard.

"Laurie Strode?" He asked. From this vantage point, he faintly – very faintly – reminded me of Danny DeVito.

"The one and only," I replied in a sullen voice.

"Right this way." He led me outside to a nicer car than I would have expected.

"Your ride has already been paid. But I'm sure you know that. I'm supposed to get you to Forks. Is that correct?" I only nodded while sitting down, not even bothering to put my seatbelt on. While Seattle may be a large city, Forks was not and the only car crash I'd ever heard of happened back in 2003 and to be fair, it wasn't really a crash. I barely graced the other car. People always exaggerated when money gets involved.

For the next two hours, the only thing I heard was the rain against the roof and the driver's extremely loud breathing.

I grew nostalgic as the environment changed to the green and alien-like setting I grew up with. Most things are green in Forks. The ground, the tree trunks, along with the crown and even rocks were known for passing into vegetation territory.

As we passed the welcome to Forks sign, my throat started to close up. So close. I was literally ten minutes away from my old home. So surreal.

"Where would you like to stop?" Yes. Where would I stop? I wasn't ready to go to the house yet. It was barely ten in the morning. They would think I was being forced. Before, I never got up before ten and was never ready to start a new day before eleven.

I cleared my throat before answering. "That motel down the road. It'll be fine." The driver nodded and slowed down as the tacky broken neon red sign came in sight. The car stopped at the front desk and I got out faster than DeVito was prepared for. He jumped as I slammed the door shut and sped away before I even made it to reception.

The door dinged as they opened and I loosened my messy bun to cover my face just a little. With the population this low, you never know who you might run into, even in the oddest of places.

A young girl, barely out of her pre-teens with bleached hair and an orangey-looking tan stepped out from behind a door labeled 'storage'. I could hear a TV playing in the background. She gave me a once over, judging me, no doubt, while chewing on a piece of – what I presumed – really old gum. She sighed while getting a large book from under the register and opening it up to a new page.

"It'll be thirty bucks a night. Sign here and I'll need to see some id," she spoke with a light voice, almost baby-like. Paris Hilton wannabes stretch for miles and miles.

I gave her three twenties – which she actually had to count – while searching for an id… I gave it to her and signed the log.

"Isabella Swan? Weird name." I snorted quietly while snatching back the id with the key she'd left on the counter and walked out of there.

The room was horrible, to say the least. Thirty bucks a night for this? While there was a private bathroom, that did not make up for the fact that the walls were the fugliest shade of brown I have ever seen in my life, with darkening spots in the corners. The floor was covered in a dark green carpet which matched horribly to the dark woodened furniture's. The bed made a springing noise when I sat down my bag and I shivered as I saw the dead spider by the bathroom window.

After a shower and a fresh change of clothes, I placed my small mercworx knife at the inside of my ankle, where it'd be hidden from view by my skinny jeans. I stacked up on cash, grabbed my phone, the key and then left the room.

I wasn't sure where to go. I toyed with the idea of showing up at my Dad's house and thinking about how he'd react. Would he be angry? Sad? Happy? But I was too much of a coward and when my stomach growled, I couldn't even remember the last time I ate something substantial.

I headed into a familiar diner and took a seat in a booth. The placed hadn't changed a bit. Not that I'd expected it to. Forks is traditional and the people liked their history.

A waitress came across the relatively empty space and took out a small plain notebook and a pen before looking at me. She opened her mouth but said nothing while staring at me wonderingly. I knew her. We went to high school together. Angela Weber.

We weren't exactly friends' back then. But we hung out on occasions. She was more of the studying type while I was lucky I had a high enough IQ to practically fake my way through four years. It still amazes me I got A's in most classes.

After I counted to ten in my head, she still hadn't stopped staring. I cleared my throat. That caught her attention and she closed her mouth.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you look like someone I used to know."

"Common face I supposed."

"Must be. So… what can I get you?" I shrugged, not really caring what I eat now days. Seems so pointless to look forward to something that's going to taste good for half an hour at the very most and then it'll be passed through your system and you'll forget all about it.

"Fries will do fine. And a 7up"

"Just a plates of fries?" I nodded. What's wrong with a plate of fries?

"I'll be back in a sec with your drink."

She was back within five minutes and sat down the plate slowly.

"Here you go. Just holler if there's anything else you need." I nodded while pouring an unhealthy amount of ketchup onto the plate at the same time as my phone vibrated in my pocket.

"Hello Emmett. Up so soon? On a Thursday? How out of character."

"Was that- was that actually a joke? What have that place done to you?"

"Haha, freak."

"You're the freak."

"You sound like a five year old."

"I am a five year old."

"Glad we got that cleared up."

"So how's it going?"

"How do you think? Real question."

"They all had heart attacks by your sight."

"Who are you referring to as 'they'?"

"I don't know. Anyone you knew from before. Way back when."

"Have you been watching E?"

"Maybe just a little. But don't change the subject."

"Are you calling for a report or just a somewhat friendly chat?"

"Chat. That's it, I promise."

"Well no one's died yet because they don't recognize me. Not that I blame them," I lowered my voice and checked the counter if Angela was listening. She was talking animatedly with one of the costumers. An older man with graying hair. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to place him.

Is that- ? No it couldn't- Harry Clearwater? I thought he died. Angela peeked at me quick. I turned away and sunk lower into the red plastic covered cushions.

"I might have spoken too soon."

"What? Why?"

"Just spotted one of my dad oldest friends. He had a heart attack almost four years ago. He was worse when I left. I thought he died. Apparently not."

"How sensitive of you."

"Don't be so quick to judge. You know how absolutely wonderful evangelist can be when saying how we'll go to hell for eating a cookie before dinner? Well that's Harry on his personal believes."

"And what does he believe?"

"Right now. I'm sure he believes what Angela Weber's telling him about just possibly seeing me."

"Why do you sound freaked out by that?"

"Because it's freaking me out." I hung up while grabbing a twenty from my back pocket and walked quickly out of the place. I turned my head back and saw how the both of them was staring at my spot and then started talking again. That is not good.

I started walking down the street with no apparent reason to stop. The weather was brightening and the rain had stopped completely. I wouldn't go so far as to say the sun would come out but- oh my shit! Am I really thinking about the weather?

I groaned in exasperation at myself and stomped down the small road. I dialed Emmett's number and he answered on the second ring.

"So you're alive. Their thoughts were too much for you weren't they?"

"Don't be a child. This is a really big deal for me."

"Is that why you're wandering through the woods? Or are you just waiting for the inbreeding people to get you?"

"That was Virginia and how do you know where I- are you tracking me?"

"I got bored. It's the longest commercials ever on Days of our Lives."

"I'm glad I amuse you."

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"It's going to be fine." I shook my head, then remembering he couldn't see me.

"You can't know that."

"True and I can relate – a little – to how you're feeling. Just have a story ready by the time you get there and it'll be fine."

"Shit. I forgot about that. What the hell am I going to tell them?"

"Ooo let me. You have been traveling with Greenpeace."

"What?"

"Yeah. You said you wanted to compensate."

"But this would do nothing for the cause."

"So donate a million or so when you get back."

"Yeah but they always want your name when you donate such a large sum."

"Shocker. Or maybe you can tell them the truth."

"Which is what? That I dropped out of college to spend the next year in Siberia with some very pissed of ex-marine Russians. Yeah they won't have questions at all."

"Another joke. I'm impressed. This place has turned you sarcastic. Maybe you should stay longer."

"Emmett! Not helping."

"Wasn't trying to. But I was more pointing towards what you've been telling them. That you have traveled the world. Talk about Europe. People like Europe."

"I've never been to Europe."

"Technically, some part of Russia is in Europe."

"Not the part I was in."

"So lie. You're good at that."

"Lying you say, how original."

"Don't ask for my advice if you don't want it."

"I'm not good at lying to my mother or Jasper. My father I'm fine with because he's a cop and I think it's my DNA to-"

"Wait! Your dad's a cop? This is too ironic."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious."

"I'm only here to help."

Finally noticing my surroundings, I stopped, realizing where I was. It was a long road and a small bridge was up close. Then came a bend and I knew exactly what I would find. There were two houses at the end of this road. One was visible from where I was standing. It was very small, barely fit for two and as far as I knew, an old couple had lived there. The place looked vacant, almost abandoned, now.

But behind the bend, barely two-hundred yards away from the cottage, on the other side of the street, lay my father's house. Everywhere around, trees stood tall and growing up, it had really creeped me out to be this close to such a large forest. The horror movies didn't help matters.

My breathing had gotten faster and dizziness followed.

"Emmett I'm gonna have to call you back." I hung up before he had a chance to respond. Looking around to see that no one was watching me, I bit my thumbnail and walked across the empty and silent street and fastened my steps as I came onto the bridge.

Once I got the first glimpse of the white house which still desperately needed a new paintjob, I slowed down, checking to see if any car was visible. Since there was no garage large enough for a car, there really wasn't a way to hide it.

I went up the driveway and hunched down at the left side of the concrete porch stairs. A small and closely grown spruce had once held a family of birds and remaining was a very old nest. We'd used it for years to keep the spare key. I felt around and came in contact with cold metal.

The door creaked as I opened it and stepped inside. It was exactly how I remembered it. The kitchen to the left, the living room straight ahead and the dining room left of that. The first bathroom was directly to my right. A set of dark woodened stairs right in front of me lead to the second floor where three bedrooms fit along with a second bathroom.

I closed the door behind me and stepped further inside. I walked upstairs and peered into the master bedroom. Light streamed through the window which displaying the front yard. Various pictures in cheap IKEA frames hung on the walls above the dresser. On my mother's vanity table, several, more elegant-looking frames and more important picture was placed in a neat order.

But this wasn't the same. My parent's wedding photo used to stand here, along with a picture of Jasper and me in the backyard – ages three and five, a trip we all took to Texas five years ago and a long-gone black Labrador named BeBe. The dog was still there with me and jasper but anything with both my mom and dad was gone. What is going on? I didn't want to dwell on it any longer and had to ask when anyone got home.

The next room was Jasper's. The only difference in there was the lack of books and his computer. Jasper was, to say the least, an avid reader. Not that I don't like reading but Shakespeare requires too much thinking for me to enjoy the book, or play in this case.

I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath before entering my room.

Strangely enough, nothing looked familiar to me. Of course I knew everything in the room but it all seemed so out of place. Everything was stacked in neat chaos with a knitted shirt still hanging over the computer chair. The aging device itself was a disgrace to the world of technology. It didn't look like it had been cleaned recently. Dust covered the floor in a creepy way.

I spent less time than the previous rooms. It held no value to me anymore.

I went downstairs, through the rest of the house before wounding up in the kitchen with the fridge door open. It was meticulously stocked, the milk new and vegetables fresh. I closed the door with too much force and the glass bottles clanked together.

This was when I had to make my mind up. It was just past two in the afternoon and I'd never know when someone might come home. I could leave now. No one would ever know. And yet I found myself sitting down at the table, staring at the open newspaper but not really seeing it.

I leaned my hands in front of me and waited.

My leg started to jump nervously again and it didn't stop until I head the door creak open. But my heart started to thump erratically and out of rhythm. I heard someone open the door while nibbling the nail of my thumb again.

"Who the hell are you?" I closed my eyes and sighed before getting up and turning around. At first, he seemed confused but once recognition set in, he couldn't keep his mouth closed.

"Hi Jasper."


	4. What I've Done

_**What I've Done **_

"Bella?" I raised my hand in a half attempt at a wave and then quickly dropped it back to my side.

Even with three years passed, Jasper hasn't changed much. His hair was longer and he seemed fitter but other than that he was the same as the last time I saw him. He had on jeans and an old Metallica t-shirt we'd gotten after a concert in 06. He still wore an old zodiac necklace he bought at a flea market some odd years ago and an even older friendship bracelet in dark green and black that I made him once when I was home from school with the flue. No seriously, I really did have the flue.

"What did you do to your hair?" My lips twitched in amusement.

"You've always been the one with words, Jazz."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you have issues with people hugging you because I haven't seen you in three years so suck it up." I chuckled weakly and pulled him close, only now realizing just how much I've missed my brother. I'd never admit this but I was one second away from crying so I leaned away and tried to smile.

"What- How- When did you get here?" I shrugged.

"Around ten this morning. The town, not the house. That would be creepy for me to just lurk around here like a weirdo for hours."

"And you wait this long to find anyone? It doesn't matter now. How are you? Where have you been?"

"I'm okay." Just stating the physical obviousness. "I've been traveling." He didn't seem to buy it. I wasn't expecting him to.

"For three years? Seriously, Bella. Where have you been?" I turned away and surveyed the tabletop.

"Here and there. Mostly there. Never really here. Why does is matter now?" I met his eyes again and tried to appear as innocent as possible. He had never fully believed any of my lies. Jasper was very intuitive about these sorts of things.

"How long are you staying?"

"I'm not sure."

"Do you have somewhere to be?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's complicated."

"How complicated?"

"Too complicated for me to even begin to explain it all to you. Please just let it go." I raised an eyebrow and dared him to continue. Just because I've been gone for three years doesn't mean I still couldn't kick his ass. If anything I'd do it easier now. Jasper nodded after a few seconds.

"Have you talked to dad? Or mom?" He asked warily, fidgeting with his hands. I shook my head and narrowed my eyes at his expression. There was something he wasn't telling me.

"What's going on?" I started slowly.

"It's nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing. What aren't you telling me?" Jasper hesitated before sighing and raking a hand through his hair. I raised both my brows.

"You should sit down."

"I should?"

"You should."

"What the hell is going on, Jasper?" He held my arm and tried to get to sit down again but I shrugged him off.

"Mom and dad got a divorce." It was a good thing the chair was right behind me. I plopped down with a dazed look on my face, not sure how to process this new information or how I really felt about it.

"Wh… when?" Jasper sat down opposite me but didn't answer.

"When, Jasper?"

"It's been almost two years."

"So this was my fault," I whispered.

"What? No, Bella. It's not."

"But they were happy before. Maybe not sitcom happy, but happy enough. So what happened in that year that could have made them get a divorce?" But Jasper couldn't answer that one. He did however bite his lower lip in nerves and glanced away from me. "There's more?" I groaned.

"Kind of." My hand felt warm against my forehead.

"Just say it fast, like ripping of a Band-Aid."

"Mom moved to Phoenix after the divorce was finalized… and she's kind of engaged." My head was spinning. "Phil's not that bad. If you give him a chance," he pointed out towards me and I frowned at him. "And dad, well… he's not really acknowledging he's seeing Sue – since she's just out of her marriage to Harry Clearwater – but she's been over here so many times now it's pretty obvious."

"That's a large Band-Aid," I said weakly after a moment.

"I know. Sorry."

"You should be. Why haven't you said anything?"

"When? You barely called and it's not like I could call because you never gave me a number. And it's not really a conversation, or rather _conversations_, you want to have on the phone."

"You could have told me to come home."

"_I did_."

"Oh… right. But you could have said it was an emergency."

"And you would have listened?" He got me there.

"Let's not think about it anymore." Oh it's way too late for that. My phone vibrated in my pocket and once I saw the number, I ignored the call and placed the device back in my jacket pocket.

"Who was that?"

"Just someone who can't take a hint." Jasper smiled but it was weak.

"What? Come on. You know I'm not good with emotions and shit." That made him laugh.

"It's just weird to see you here."

"Weird good or just weird in an unexplainable term?"

"The latter… I'm not trying to make you feel guilty… or maybe I am, but why haven't you been home sooner? What did we do to make you run away like that?" I pursed my lips and tried to come up with a good enough answer.

"I'm very uncomfortable with this level of emotional _stuff…_ so I'm going to say this just once; none of you did anything wrong. I needed time to vent and it took longer than I thought."

"Three years is a long time to vent."

"Yeah… it is. And I'll do better in the future… probably."

"Probably?"

"You should know by now I'm unpredictable. So what are you doing here? Do you still live with dad?" Jasper shook his head.

"No. Believe it or not, but I come over sometimes to have dinner. I haven't completely abandoned the old man… Sorry, I didn't-"

"No it's only fair. I did leave."

"But still-"

"No buts. I'm a big girl Jasper; I can handle responsibility… somewhat at least.

"Like an actual grown – oh no," he said as his eyes followed something outside while he fidgeted nervously with his hands.

"What?" But at that moment, the front door flew open, knocked against the wall and a quiet but cheerful voice penetrated the comfortable atmosphere.

"Jasper? Is that you? I didn't think you'd be here so soon." Oh no… this is not happening. Jasper seemed uncertain as my expression changed from confused to curious to nervous and finally settling on annoyed.

"Who is that?" I whispered with my teeth clenched, though I already knew.

"_Sorry,"_ Jasper whispered before standing up and smiling at the woman coming through the archway. She smiled at Jasper and when her gaze rested on me, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion but the smile never faltered.

"Who is this?" She asked and her voice sounded almost accusing. "I thought you were bringing Alice," she pointed out to Jasper.

Who's Alice?

"She couldn't make it. This is Bella... My sister."

"Ooh… Bella. Hi. It is so nice to finally meet you." Sue sat down the grocery bag she was holding and then did something I was not expecting… she hugged me. My arms flailed at my sides and I knew I couldn't look any more shocked even if I tried.

"What's with people hugging me?" My voice was a bit muffled from her shirt. Sue regarded me warily before moving away to the counter.

"Okay. Well I'm going to start dinner. Would anyone like some wine?"

"Yes," I said immediately. Jasper eyed me curiously as Sue got the glasses.

"You don't like wine," he muttered.

"I'll learn if it will get me through tonight." I accepted the champagne colored liquid and took a healthy gulp and felt it burn my throat. Though this was nothing like tequila burn. I did not like it.

"I have to take this," Jasper mentioned towards his phone.

"No, don't leave me," I hissed in alarm.

"Just keep your mouth shut till I get back and you'll be fine." He left and I threw back the last of my drink before pouring more into my glass.

"So, Bella… how long are you home for?" Sue was unloading the bag and grabbing various items from the fridge and never once looked at me.

"That's undecided at the moment. Why, want me gone?" Sue turned with a shocked expression but with my light face and slight smirk, she came to the conclusion I was joking. I think I was nice to let her live in ignorant bliss.

"I was just wondering," she got back to what she was doing. "I understand you have been gone for quite some time."

"Yeah. So?"

"So… it's been very upsetting to both your father and brother. I don't want to see them hurt if you decide to leave again and not show your face again for another three years." My brows rose high and I had a hard time believe she just said those words to me. She didn't even know me.

"Okay… let's get one thing straight; I didn't even know about you until half hour ago so don't you dare say anything about how _upsetting_ it's been for them. I'm more family than you will ever be. And for another fact, you don't know shit about what's been going on in my life so don't stand there and judge me."

Sue stayed facing the counter but made no comments.

"Would you like to help me with dinner?"

"Not really," I muttered and took a gulp.

"It wasn't a question," Sue replied with an edge.

"I can't cook."

"That doesn't surprise me. But anyone can chop vegetables."

I rolled my eyes but sat down the glass and washed the salad and cucumber before grabbing the largest kitchen knife I could find, enjoying some highly morbid thoughts.

"I didn't mean to overstep… before. That probably wasn't my place," Sue replied slowly and quietly while getting a steak out from the fridge. I grimaced as splashes of red dropped from the package and onto the counter.

"No it wasn't."

Jasper took that opportunity to step inside and he immediately noticed the tension and narrowed his eyes at me. I smiled mockingly and went back to massacring the lettuce.

"How's it going?" His tone made me sigh but I suppose my track record would suggest I can't go five minutes without insulting anyone.

"Just peachy," I grumbled and started munching on the water based vegetable.

"No death threats?"

"You flatter me. Here, continue." I gave him the knife and sat down once more with my glass and contemplated how much weirder my life could get at this point.

I thought too soon.

My phone vibrated again in my pocket and I started getting worried, not knowing what they would do if I didn't talk to someone soon. Though it's not like they could force me away. Aro was, after all, the one to send me here.

"Still can't take a hint?" Jasper asked as I studied my phone screen intently.

"Actually it's not him. I have to take this. I'll be right back." I left both of them in the kitchen and snuck upstairs into my old room, making sure the door was closed properly.

"What is it?" I hissed into the phone.

"I just wanted to check up. No need to get nasty," Demetri replied lightly. "How are things going?"

"Fucking peachy."

"That's nice. No… issues then?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know… wrong questions asked and lingered answers."

"Do you doubt my abilities' to perform such a childish act as lying?"

"Hmm… I guess not with that tone. You've always been so angry… all the time. It's such a drag."

"Very funny. And next time, you better make fucking sure it's an emergency, otherwise, I'll ruin you. And you know I can do that. I'm the one who decides when something's gone wrong." I hung up, feeling the anger slowly seep out of me.

"_Debil_," I hissed and fought the urge to hurl the device across the room.

I took several calming breaths but little good did it do for my temper. I've always had some sort of anger issues. I almost got expelled once due to fighting.

I stopped pacing long enough to sit down on my old bed and I don't know why but I opened the drawer in my nightstand. A small day planner in dark green is first to be seen. I stripped away the attached rubber band and skimmed through the days of my last year of high school. Silly notes on essays, tests and various doodling in the margins. And of course the days I worked at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. Mike, the owners son and store manager, had always had a crush on me, – not something he hid easily with his obsessive niceness and golden retriever stand – so I had a fairly easy time getting the job. Mike wasn't bad-looking. In general, he was… cute. But that was all and when you're over fifteen, you don't want to be recognized as cute. Unless – according to society – you're around animals or small children. I've never quite understood that.

I put the planner atop the nightstand and started rummaging through the rest of the drawer. A strawberry chapstick, four black rubber armbands, a few hairbands and a stack of papers in the back. I took out the stack and looked through them. I found a couple receipts, – the ink completely intact from lack of oxygen – along with some crunched up papers I had been doodling on when I couldn't sleep and I had a similar feeling when I got to the bottom of the stack as I had in the club two days ago. The picture was worn at the sides. For a moment, I remembered a time when I used to be happy.

_The rocks were warm against my shorts and tank top clad form. My hair moved with the light breeze, tickling my exposed arms. Linkin Park blasted through the earbuds at an alarming volume. _

_I never heard him coming, but right after sighing in peacefulness, a few droplets of cold water dropped onto my back and slowly rolled down my sides. I jumped in surprise and yanked the buds out. _

"_What the fuck?" _

_He chuckled and sat down next to me. I frowned at him and punched his arm. _

"_Ouch."I made a face and as he leaned in I pulled back and pushed him away, enjoying the frown on his face. _

"_Don't think you're getting any after that." _

"_Oh really?" He smirked and pushed forward and I pushed back. His hands grabbed at my sides, making me laugh _

"_No! Stop it!" He was now fully on top of me, digging his fingers into my ribs. I kicked my legs and tried to get him away but he was stronger. _

_His hands rested on the rocks, trapping me beneath him, not that I minded. Before I could take another breath, his head bent down and his lips crashed to mine. _

A soft clank from downstairs brought me back to reality. While the stack of papers and receipts went back into the drawer, the picture I took with me, folding it in the middle and placing it in my back pocket.

oOo

As the smell of boiling carcass seeped through the kitchen, a car rolled up onto the small driveway. It was the same car my father had used most his life. He only had the cruiser. His truck broke down years ago and he never thought he'd need another one.

I sat dutifully in my spot, drank some more and thought I'd choke when the door opened and my father stepped through the archway.

"It smells wonderful in- who's this?" I finally turned in my spot but stayed seated. It'd be easier to take the yelling if I was sitting down. I can't believe I'm scared of my dad's yelling but I can take down a drug dealer in less than three minutes.

"Isabella? Hi. Good to see you." And then he left the kitchen for the TV. I started pointedly at Jasper but he simply shrugged. I gulped down the last of my wine before going after Charlie.

Meaningless banter screamed out of the speakers as I got closer. I leaned against the doorway and watched the screen with bored eyes. Why do people take sports so seriously? It's just a game! Fucking grow up. And why do they call football, football? They barely kick the "ball". It'd be more fitted named American rugby.

"Char- Dad?" I tried at first but he remained seated, watching the game.

"Dad? Seriously. What's wrong?" Charlie sighed and hit mute.

"Close the door please."

"Is this were you kill me?" I joked but Charlie didn't appreciate it.

"I'd rather Sue and Jasper not hear this." I gulped. I don't like the yelling.

"The walls are made of paper. They'll hear everything anyway."

"Close it." Sighing, the door closed with a thud but I stayed put. "Sit down."

"Do I have to?"

"Sit down." I frowned but crept forward and sat down on the armrest of the couch. "I want to know some things."

"Okaay…"

"First; how are you?"

"I'm doing okay."

"Second; where the hell have you been?" He didn't yell but it was equally intimidating.

"Traveling. I've sent post cards."

"Don't take me for an idiot, Bella. I know you've been lying to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've uh… I got really worried and I… I hired a private investigator. He's been trying to find you for two years. But I haven't heard from him in almost two weeks now." I kept my gaze at him, determined not to let anything away.

"Oh."

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say, dad?"

"Maybe get a little more shocked."

"Oh… Oh my god! You hired a PI to find me? That is so distrustful, father!"

"It's not that I'm not glad to see you but you have to understand that this is a lot to take in. seeing you here… now."

"And me showing up here – finding out you and mom had a divorce and that she's engaged and you're with her," I gestured towards the kitchen, "that's been a piece of cake."

"You mean you didn't know."

"Nope. And just for the record, I think I should get extra points for staying in the house this long."

"I don't want to fight," Charlie said and the way that he sighed, he looked so tired and it made him age ten years. I don't think I've ever seen him quite like this before. I nodded in agreement.

"You've changed," He noted, looking at the screen.

"It's just hair. It's not that big of a deal."

"It's not your hair. It's you. You're… changed."

"Wow… you're worse at words than Jasper."

"How long are you planning on staying."

"Not sure. It's probably going to be a few days." Charlie nodded and went back to studying the screen.

"Dinner's ready!" Sue's voice pierced through the house and I knew they'd heard everything. It's a good thing I'm such a bitch, otherwise I'd be really embarrassed of how I had been talking about her.

oOo

There was a deafening silencing hanging eerily around the room. I stared at my plate, only moving the food I did not eat around, not actually eating anything. I glanced to my right and saw my father digging into the steak as if he's either the hungriest man alive or if the uncomfortable tension around the room was getting to him.

I glanced right across from me and saw Jasper was also fidgeting with his food but at least he was eating some of it. And finally, I glanced to my left and saw Sue eating in a normal pace, as if she didn't notice anything wrong at all. It was so surreal and I truly didn't know how to feel.

"Dinner's great," Jasper chimed in and I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. Kiss-ass. "Isn't it Bella?" My head flew up and he smirked at me fast before going back to his plate. Asshole. I smiled a fake smile at Sue and took a pea with the knife and plopped it into my mouth, making sure I was chewing it thoroughly.

I caught Jasper's gaze, scrunched up my eyebrows and inclined my hand, clearly stating; _what the fuck?_

"_What?"_ He mouthed back innocently. I rolled my eyes away from him and decided I didn't want to pretend anymore. And so I sulked in my own world until everyone else finished off their plates.

"Aren't you hungry Isabella?" I mentally cringed at the mention of my full name. Only a few could get away with uttering the syllables. She was not going to be one of them.

"It's _Bella_. And I don't eat meat."

"Since when," Jasper and Charlie said in unison.

"Since forever."

oOo

It was getting dark outside. The rainclouds made it look to be around midnight and not seven. Jasper drove quickly to the motel and grimaced as he saw where I was staying.

"You don't have to stay here, you know."

"Thanks for the offer but I'm fine. Really." And that's when I remembered. "So who's Alice?"

"Um… She's kind of my girlfriend."

"Kind of? Please don't tell me you're stalking her?"

"That's hilarious. But we haven't known each other that long. I can't assume."

"You're a guy. You're supposed to assume." I made to open the door but Jasper spoke again.

"Are you staying until morning?" I turned back with a confident look and a small comforting smile.

"Of course. I wouldn't-" but I cut myself off before I put my foot in my mouth, shaking my head.

"What was that?" He smirked smugly. Was he picking for a fight? Normally I wouldn't back down but this had been an exhausting day. I just wanted it to end.

"Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow. I have a thing in the evening but we can meet for lunch?"

"What thing?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. So lunch?"

"Sure. Bye."

"Later."

I slammed the door shut and watched him drive off as the rain picked up again. Frowning at the weather, I sloshed to the door as the sky opened up and all I could hear was water pelting down on the roof.

Once back in the small – very small – comfort of the most expensive roadside motel in all of America, I finally got back a sense of reality.

I barely had my shoes thrown to the wall before my back hit the very uncomfortable mattress and my eyes closed instantly. Even though it felt like lying on asphalt, I felt too exhausted to bother mentally complaining. But just as I was finally trying to relax, my phone buzzed on the small table in the corner. I grumbled in annoyance as I picked it up.

"What?"

"Hello Bella," Aro's calm voice pierced the earpiece, slightly amused by my tone.

"Aro. To what do I owe this… pleasure?"

"Don't suck up, Bella. You're not good at it."

"I know."

"I'm calling because I have a small… _favor_ that I need you to do for me."

"What is it?"

"J. Jenkins. He's an old friend and very good at his job."

"And what is that?"

"A special kind of researcher, you could say."

"So what's the favor?"

"I need you to look over some documents and then get back to me."

"Documents?"

"Jenkins will know what I'm talking about."

"And where do I find this Jenkins?"

"Seattle. On Harbor Island. You'll meet a man named Max and he'll take you to Jenkins. And I trust you know how to handle the situation should a problem emerge."

And then he hung up.


	5. Bury Me Alive

_I just have to squeeze in a small AN here. Hope nobody mind. Last week I couldn't believe it when I checked my mail and there was so much response to SFTD. It means a lot to know so many are reading and actually liking the story. _

* * *

_**Bury Me Alive **_

No matter how exhausted I was and how many times I closed my eyes, I couldn't fall asleep. But for once, it wasn't from disturbing dreams and creaking nonsense by the wind. The believably uncomfortable mattress's springs pressed into my back every time I moved and if I didn't move, it literally felt as if I was lying on a stack of rocks.

I didn't get comfortable until I felt a patch of undisturbed cotton by the right side of the bed and that was in the wee hours of morning. I got three solid hours before my phone vibrated on the nightstand.

Groaning, I reached for it, cursing Emmett for his not-so-impeccable timing.

"Morning sunshine."

"Fuck you. I was sleeping."

"You were sleeping?"

"Not anymore."

"But it's nine a.m."

"_I know_," I said through clenched teeth.

"You're not really mad at me."

"I beg to differ."

"You mean I can actually get you to beg?" I rolled my eyes.

"Is your life so boring you have to bug me every five seconds?"

"Depend on what you mean by boring. And I was actually trying to act like a friend. How'd it go last night?"

"I don't want to say bad because they took the sight pretty well but I don't want to say good because I think I was more shocked than them."

"How so?"

"My mom and dad got a divorce."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Thanks, but that's not all. Apparently my mom's playing house in Phoenix with some dude named Phil and my dad's hooking up with a recently divorced. It's a lot to take in."

"I get that."

"I also get that this might not be a conversation you want to have on the phone but fuck, how could he not say anything. He's been lying to me for two years." And there's that foot again. "I know, I know. I heard it too. Don't remind me."

"So what are you planning on doing today?" I asked while getting up and started pacing to get away the pain in my back.

"I'm actually going away for a while."

"Away, where?"

"I can't say. Not yet anyway."

"Alright…"

"But I'll call as soon as I can."

"You're leaving me alone with these people?" I asked in mock fear. Emmett snorted.

"_These people_ are your family."

"So they say but you never know… I could be adopted."

"I like what this town has done to you. You're actually fun and sarcastic."

"Okay then… Bye now."

"Bye shorty." I threw the phone onto the bed and rubbed my face with my hands. I then started grabbing after a pair of slim fitting black Urban Combats, a grey cotton V neck t-shirt with Malibu written across the chest, the number 76 underneath and a longer navy blue zip through hoody. After I laced up my converse and found my phone beneath the covers, I grabbed a few fifties and pushed then into my back pocket and then left the room.

oOo

There's only one car rental in Forks. Which is unfortunate for me because you have to be twenty-four to rent a car and I happen to know the dude behind the counter. And what's worse is; he recognized me the minute I walked inside.

"Well, well… Isabella Swan. It wasn't yesterday."

"Tyler Crowley. How many times have I asked you to stop calling me Isabella?" I walked up to the counter, leaning my arms on the top. While we hadn't been "friends" back in high school – Tyler was a year older than me – we'd hung out on occasions. No need to elaborate.

"Not enough for it to stop being amusing." He smirked and looked me up and down. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all. "So… what can I do you for?" I chuckled subtly, not missing the underlying innuendo.

"I need to rent a car." Tyler pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Sorry. Twenty-four minimum." I cocked my head to the side and bit my bottom lip.

"Aw come on. You know me. Can't you make an exception?"

"I can get into trouble." I pouted lightly and could already feel his resolve crumbling.

"Please?"

"Alright… but just so you know, if my boss comes in, you're the one who has to pay the fine." I smile widely.

"Of course." He brought me out back and I was first met by the sight of a bright red minivan. I stared at the monster and then turned to Tyler.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"It's only eight years old."

"It's a fucking minivan. It's for soccer moms. Does it look like I have two point two kids?"

"It's cheap."

"Money's not an issue." He studied me for a moment before moving on to another car. This was better but it was still a dark green Ford Focus.

"No." Tyler sighed in annoyance and pointed across the lot at a twenty year old Mercedes. Okay model but too old.

"You know it's just a car."

"So? I said that money's not an issue. Don't you have anything that's not… ugly?" Tyler tipped his head to the side and the nodded.

"We do have an Audi R8 and a 69 Excalibur for prom and such." Iron Man's car. That's actually kind of awesome.

"The Audi will do fine." He raised his brows but drew up the papers and I practically threw the money at him.

"Shit, where do you get this kind of money from?" Tyler said with a dazed expression. I'd left him a nice tip.

"We all have our little secrets, don't we?" I didn't wait for his answer before I grabbed the keys and made my way to the car, got in and sped off in a dangerous speed. But fuck, I liked it fast. Especially if the roads are this empty. It's a shame not to take advantage of it.

For over an hour, I drove through the woods of the Olympic Peninsula. For once, the green terrain provided comfort. In this speed the forest could have looked tropic, had it not been for the dark sky. I hate the rain. Even if I lived with this crap for eighteen years.

The silence was wearing me down. I turned on the radio but there was no signal and the static was worse than the quiet. I tried my cell but the battery was almost dead.

"Fuck!" I hissed and threw the device to my right, feeling slightly better by the clang as it hit the door and then the floor.

I had to slow down as the roads got more narrow and sharper. Then, out of nowhere, I came to a clearing. From here you could see all the way down the mountain, the green blanket of treetops covered the ground.

I continued down road until I came to a crossing. I wanted a GPS but whichever had to lead to the ground either way, right? I took a right turn and drove onward.

I continued for another twenty minutes before coming to a long paved road, still surrounded by trees but at least now I knew civilization wasn't too far away.

The lane droned on and on and my eyes drew on instinct to my left and at the side of the road – I almost missed it – stood a white all-American mailbox. I slammed on the brakes and skid for a few feet before putting in reverse and going back. I stopped on the other side of the mailbox, watching how the dirt road revealed itself.

You couldn't see the house from the road but I knew it was there. You'd probably expect a small fishing or hunting cabin this deep into the woods but driving down that – almost – mile long road and it'd reveal a truly stunning house.

It's a two storage home, excluding the basement and has the largest garage I've ever seen outside a mall. The garage actually leads down to the basement and in it – if it hasn't changed in three years – still holds a sleek black Mercedes-Benz, a Toyota SUV, a dark grey Aston Martin, a silver Volvo and a screaming red Beemer.

The dark woodened exterior melted together with the floor to ceiling windows placed around the structure. One the first floor was a larger-than-necessary kitchen – black granite counter tops, state of the arts fridge, oven, microwave and two barstools at the island – a living room fit for a sports fanatic – 52" flat screen, surround sound and a couch large enough to fit ten – the narrowest bathroom you will ever find outside the UK, the master- along with the guest bedroom.

The stairs leading up a floor were fastened to the wall, turning ninety degrees with the house and continuing up. To the left led a long hardwood covered path. At the end a glass door opened up to a small balcony. To the right of that, a pair of frosted glass doors leads to another bedroom. I've never been in there so I couldn't say for sure how it looks inside but I know the one room next is the bathroom and the door to that is at the very top of the stairs. I'm guessing there's a big closet. She would need it. And, of course, another guestroom at the end of the hall. It was smaller than the one downstairs but equally decorated.

As you stand by the railing, the entire back of the building is of glass. There's a pool – more fitted for a vacation complex in the Caribbean – completely done in black mosaic tiles with white patterns across the ground. The lights will be on at night, illuminating the water in an almost trans-like way. Behind is a wall of trees, making you feel like you're in your own little world. Even with all the leaves, the pool was always free from imperfections. I don't know how they do it.

As you continue following the floor the opposite direction, the structure turns another ninety degrees and that's when the last door is revealed. This is not in glass but black wood with a classic handle. I can picture opening the door and remember just how it looked.

The first thing you see is two glass doors, seemingly leading to another balcony, but actually leading nowhere. That freaked me out the first time I was in there.

"_So they don't lead anywhere?" He shook his head, still studying me. But I was completely taken by the room to care how he never stopped watching me. It usually creeped me out – and still does – whenever someone stared too long. _

"_Maybe the designer was drunk when drawing or genially liked the look… Personally, I prefer the first one." I rolled my eyes. _

"_I'm not surprised." _

The entire wall to the right was occupied with endless rows of white shelves, stocked with books, movies, video games and music – both in CD and vinyl. To the left of the door which leads to nowhere, a king-size bed stood on four standard feet. It would be unmade and I can almost see the pillows pushed away from the comfort of the top of the bed to pressed against the window which turns quite cold at night.

When my eyes fist grazed the ceiling, a larger than average dartboard had been nailed there and seemed to scream at me. I couldn't stop my laugh.

"_That's either brilliant… or completely idiotic." _

"_If you don't mind, I'm gonna go with brilliant." _

"_What if the darts don't stick?" He raised his hand to his left eyebrow where a small scar etched into the brow. My smirk was prominent but I said nothing. _

A white see-through bookcase with square shelves shielded the bed from the rest of the room, which wasn't much else; a flat screen on the wall opposite the bed with a small black couch across and an even thinner coffee table beneath the TV with a DVD, X-box 360 and a PS3.

The chime of my phone got my mind back to the car and I had to shake my head before reaching over and grasping the soon-to-be replaced decide and pressing the green button.

"Hello?"

"Bella, its Jasper."

"Jazz? Oh shit I completely forgot about lunch. I am so sorry. I swear I haven't left town. How'd you get this number?"

"I called the motel since you never gave me it. And I can't make lunch. Work's a bitch since someone called in sick so I have to deal with this."

"Okay," I said but the line had already gone dead. I frowned at my phone before throwing it back to where I found it. I started the car and rolled down the street. At least now I knew where I was going.

I found the main road and headed for the local supermarket. My stomach had been growling since I started driving but usually it'd go away if I ate a tic tac.

I made a beeline for the drink section, grabbed two Red Bulls and a few chocolate energy bars. There was no line and no cashier. I waited by the register until a girl with dirt blonde hair came across the small space and sat down on an old chair.

I knew who she was; Lauren Mallory. Yet another one I went to school with. Did none of them leave?

She sighed as if she'd been working for thirty hours and didn't look up as she grabbed the contents.

"5,54," her nasal voice droned monotone. I gave her a ten and waited for the change.

I reached for the money and that's when she saw me and her hand stopped.

"Bella Swan?" I raised a brow in acknowledgement. "Well you have some nerve showing up here now."

"Excuse me?" She smiled sickeningly sweet.

"Did you have something to hide?" Her gaze went down to my stomach and then back up. I didn't conceal my disgust.

"Like I'm actually stupid enough to get pregnant."

"Then what was it?"

"Why the fuck do you care?"

"Oh I don't. But when I tell everyone you're back, it's nice to have a background for your meltdown."

"You need help." I smiled back and yanked my money from her and left the store.

I munched on the bar and drank while driving, not knowing where I was going but I knew I couldn't head to Seattle yet. You just can't be truly intimidating when the sun is shining.

So I drove down the coastline, crossing into Quileute territory and driving for La Push beach. I used to come here a lot when I was a kid.

I leaned against the car for a moment when something caught my eye. It was over by the rocks far down the path to my left. At first I was going to ignore it but a little further down, I saw the black Harley. I got a little closer but there was no mistake, it was Edward's.

So either I go down and get it over with or run away like I always do because I hate having to explain myself to anyone. They don't want the truth. The want an excuse. I took of my hoody and threw it to the passenger side. The sun may have disappeared behind a few clouds but it had to be over twenty C.

Well here goes nothing.

So I started walking down the path and managed to skillfully climb the small rocks and jump down behind without injuring myself. He'd just pushed away and I stood at the side, by the edge, and waited for him to swim back and pushed himself through the surface.

He hung from the side of the rock, water dropping from his hair and chest. It took a few seconds for him to notice me but once he did, he couldn't stop looking. It made me extremely self-conscious.

"Hey there."

"Hey yourself," He said, pushing down his hands and rising up. I almost drooled a little. It's not my fault. When you have abs like that, don't expect people to look away. He grabbed his towel and dried his face before looking at me again. "How'd you find me here?"

"Wasn't really looking."

"When did you get back?"

"Yesterday." He nodded and threw the towel onto a rock by the side. There was a pause, a hesitation and at the moment I couldn't remember why I hadn't just driven away. "I was just leaving, so…"

"Already? I thought you just got here?"

"Not town, just…" but then he smiled that lopsided grin and I knew he'd been kidding. "You're hilarious," I mocked.

"I know," he sighed and then cocked his head slightly to the side. "What'd you do to your wrists?" I held them up and sure enough, long shallow and almost pink scratches lit up my pale skin. I hadn't realized I'd scraped myself that much when jumping the fence.

"Trying to escape the mob," I said seriously enough to make him laugh. If he only knew how serious I was.

"Poker debts?" He whispered.

"Please. Like I'd ever lose." It's true; I rock at hold em' and 21. I even got kicked out of Palms Casino once for counting. But in my defense, if they don't want people to count they shouldn't have the game in the first place.

"You've changed," he said abruptly.

"I know. I'm meaner now."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Is it the hair? Why does everyone feel the need to comment on my hair? It's just fucking hair."

"It's not just the hair. It's you."

"Yes. Me." I dangled my legs against the rock, feeling more and more nervous every growing second I'm with him.

"I thought you said you were leaving?" Edward said while slipping his feet into a pair of black flip flops and then walking up to stand next to me.

"I was but it's kinda nice here. I think I might just stay. I was going to meet Jazz but apparently he has the busiest job in tow." I bit my lip, glancing at Edward. "What exactly does he do?" He cracked up and even though he'd been laughing and making jokes, I couldn't help but wait for the moment when he'd start yelling. Was he waiting for an excuse to lash it out or was he slowly torturing me?

"He's a mechanic."

"Okay… Who's Alice? He's not really stalking her, is he?"

"He told you that? No. At least I don't think so. She's one of Rosalie's friends from school." I frowned. I'd never gotten along with Edward's sister. In my defense, she's not easy to get along with period. She's bitchy, mean and sarcastic. I'd never admit this but change the hair and we could be twins. "Why are you asking me this?" I shrugged.

"I dunno. I'm just talking. You can leave, you know. I'm not forcing you to stay or anything."

"I know."

"Alrighty then," I sighed. After a moment of silence, Edward spoke.

"Can you at least tell me where you've been?" I decided to be honest.

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Because… it's not… important."

"It's not important? That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

"Yeah. It is." He nodded and pushed off the rock and grabbed his towel

"I actually have to get going."

"Okay."

"It was nice seeing you."

"You too," I whispered as he walked away, yanking a white t-shirt over his head.

I looked away from him, feeling confused and a little stupid.

Nice?

It was _nice_ seeing me?

What the fuck does that mean?

Nice?

Is he joking?

He didn't yell.

He never even raised his voice.

Nice?

I started getting angry and a little hurt. Why wouldn't he yell at me? Yelling would have shown he cared but obviously he never did. That made me angrier because he was the one who- it doesn't matter anymore. If he's fine then I'm fine.

Screw him.

I waited till I couldn't hear the bike anymore before getting up and rushing to the car. I yanked on the hoody again and drank the last of my Red Bull. I was suddenly feeling parched. I put the car in reverse, backed out and then drove off at a dangerous speed, wanting to feel the adrenaline. I'd been too long without it and it's better than any drug I've ever tasted.

I was driving well over sixty and reached the outskirts of Seattle after an hour but that's when I slowed down to an even forty. I did not have time to get pulled over. There are too many cars and people to drive away from the cops.

As I came up highway five, all I could see was red. Literally. Every single car hit the brakes and it was as if time stood still, all just to piss all of us off. Car horns blew every five second; like we didn't already know we're stuck. People were yelling, leaning out of their windows.

I groaned and banged my head against the headrest. This is why I like to walk. So I don't have to be stuck I fucking traffic every fucking minute of every fucking day. How can people fucking live like this? They're all freaks! That's how.

I swear it took me over an hour to move one mile and by the time I saw the Harbor Island sign, the sky was darkening and a light drizzle moved down on my windshield. I crossed the bridge while the rain picked up. I could barely see ten feet ahead even with the windshield wipers on max speed.

I stopped as I came to the containers. Aro said I'd get further instructions. But as I sat there, the engine still running and I, having no idea where I was going, started to think maybe he'd been bullshitting me.

I pushed back in the seat and when I'd put the car in reverse, ready to leave, I saw someone looming across the asphalt, leaning against the containers, trying to become one with it. I lower the window, put two fingers in my mouth and blow. The whistle echoes through the space and the guy jumped. He crept close, his head whirling around in paranoia. He closed to the car and I know he's surprised when he sees me.

"Could you help me? I'm a little lost," I said in an overly sweet tone. "Do you know where J. Jenkins office is?" The man scratches his neck, fingers trembling.

"Who?" I clench my teeth. I really don't have the patience for this.

"J. Jenkins. I was told this is where his office lies. Are you Max?" The man let his eyes wander inside the car, probably looking for any hidden cameras. I was getting soaked and Max didn't seem like he wanted to help me. I don't like games.

"I'm Max."

"Good. Now, where is J. Jenkins?"

"I'm not supposed to-"

"I don't care," I said too harshly before composing myself. He obviously didn't know who I came from. Maybe I should help him remember. Before he saw it coming, my arm snatched out, hand clasping down around his neck, drawing him closer. "Listen. I don't have time for shit like this. I know you know where Jenkins is and judging from the look on your face, you know where I come from so I suggest you help me or the next time someone comes asking for direction, they'll want to know the best place to bury you." Max swallowed hard and tried to speak. I let him go just a little.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Please forgive me." I let him go completely and he rubbed his throat.

"Where?" I asked; my eyes hard and my mouth set. Max turned.

"Take a left now until you get to the tracks and follow them down. There will be an empty parking lot. Park and go in where is says Todd Shipyards Corporations." I narrowed my eyes at him before opening up in a wide smile.

"Thank you Max. That wasn't so hard, was is? I'm sure I can fine it now. Otherwise I know where to find you." He swallowed loudly and I raised my window, flew down to the tracks and followed them up a road called 16th Avenue then past a bus stop, until I came to said parking lot. I parked as close as I could get and then ran for the door.

The receptionist was chatting away into the phone, laughing and smiling. She waved and mouthed 'hi' while inclining towards the chairs against the wall. I sat down and waited. She finally hung up the phone, looked through some papers before turning her attention to me.

"How may I help you?"

"I'm here to see J. Jenkins," I replied evenly.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But he's expecting me." She nodded, obviously not liking that I didn't have an appointment.

"What's your name?"

"Just tell him Aro sent me."

"Aro? How is he? It's been such a long time." I forced my face to remain unaffected.

"He's well. Jenkins?"

"Of course." She pressed a button on the phone.

"_Yes?" _

"There's a girl here to see you."

"_Take a message." _

"Aro sent her." There was a moment of silence before ruffling of papers disconnected the line and the door next to the desk opened. A small puny man with a cheap tan suit and red cotton tie came out and smiled nervously at me.

"Come in Miss. I do apologize the wait."

"Its fine," I replied, getting into a bitchy character. It's better to be feared than liked in these types of situations. He'd never cross me if he knew just what I'd do if he did.

"How was your drive?" He asked nervously.

"I'm not here for small talks Mr. Jenkins."

"Of– of course not." Jenkins sat and watched me for a moment before I talked.

"I believe you have something for me." He jumped out of his chair and I saw glistering drops on his forehead. It took everything in me not to sight in frustration.

"Yes, of course. I am so sorry." He scurried to a filing cabinet, fumbling a great deal with a massive keychain. Maybe I should tell him if someone really wanted that unlocked, it'd be all too easy to get it done. Maybe that would scare him into cardiac arrest.

I looked around the room. Even Laurent's office was more "colorful" than this piece of shit. The dirty white walls were one thing but the cheap furniture's and shocking teal carpet was just wrong. Even I knew that.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small but very affective bug. I pressed my palm underneath the desk; pressing the little thing up, making sure it stuck, before retrieving my hand and leaning back. I knew this could possibly piss off Aro but I had to know more about Jenkins. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away.

He finally got the files unlocked and was now rummaging through a thick range of papers. I craned my neck to see but it was too high and he closed the drawer quickly, locking it afterwards. I really wanted to know what was so important he had to keep it locked up.

He sat across from me and handed me a thick envelope – standard police issue – with the letter 'C' followed by Inc.

"What does the C stand for?" Jenkins shook his head.

"I don't know." I knew he was lying but decided against outing him. "I'm sure it says in the papers."

"Is this all of it?" He nodded vigorously. His hands were trembling harder now.

"Yes. Documents, papers, photos, receipts. It's all in there. All I could find, that is."

"So it's you personally who found all this?" I asked while eying the envelope, turning it over in my hands. He looked as if he'd said too much.

"Well… yes."

"If this is on the Kennedy assassination, I am thoroughly impressed." Jenkins laughed nervously with a hiccup at the end. I wasn't joking.

"What _exactly_ is it that you do?"

"Didn't Aro tell you?"

"I'm not asking Aro, now am I?" He seemed hesitant but I narrowed my eyes and he spoke quickly, almost fumbling with his words. It's almost amusing how afraid he was. What have they done to him before? I'd love to find out. I bet he'd squeal like a girl.

"I research."

"What, exactly?"

"Anything. I find information on things you can't Google." I nodded, thinking it over.

"So like a glorified PI?" Jenkins looked unsure and even more nervous.

"Well… I suppose so."

"I think that's all I need to know."

"It was a pleasure having you here." I rolled my eyes and walked out of there fast and into the rain, the envelope secured in my hand.

Once inside the semi-dryness of the car and air-conditioning, I placed the envelope on the passenger seat. I was itching to open it but I was wet, the seat was wet and I really wanted dinner first.


	6. Aint No Rest For The Wicked

_**Because all of you are so fucking awesome, I'm updating a few days earlier than I had planned. **_

* * *

_**Ain't no Rest for the Wicked**_

I forced the car away from Harbor Island, making the puddles splash so high as the window. The traffic loosened and most people had gone home or into bars. I scanned the streets for somewhere to eat and found a Chase's Diner and parked up close.

The fluorescent light shone brightly – the one above the door flickering like the wings of a hummingbird. I sat up front by the bar, waiting for the waitress to approach. I skimmed the menu, deciding between either a veggie omelet – even though I don't like the yolk – or chili fries with a side of onion rings and a pancake.

"What can I get you?" An older woman with graying hair and loosening middle-section asked me.

"Pancakes with a side of union rings and a Pepsi." She chuckled softly and scribbled my order down. I'm not sure whether I liked her or wanted to break something. Even if she was old. no one is never to be underestimated.

"Anything else?"

"Sweet and sour sauce?" She nodded.

"No jam or whipped cream for the pancakes?"

"No."

"Alright." She left and attached the note at the window to the kitchen.

I dribbled my fingers on the counter, thinking about J. Jenkins. I had been trained to believe that if any outside knew about Volturi, it'd be chaos. So how many knew? Was it just Jenkins or were there more "researchers".

And more, I wanted to know what was in those files. Were there more "organizations" like Volturi? What did they need research for? Was it all just a game of organizations, trying to beat each other out? Did Jenkins know exactly what we do or had Aro scared him into not asking too much?

There were too many questions and I knew I would never get answer form Aro. But how much shit would I get if I just… snuck in and took a look? It's not like I would take anything with me. Time to put that eidetic memory to good use.

I brought out an iPod touch, or at least it looked like one. I found the headphones, plugged them in and tried to hear anything. Mostly it was just static and I grumbled as I knew I was out of reach. I'd have to come back.

As soon as I saw the plate down in front of me, I think I started drooling while the large envelope in the passenger seat was forgotten. I ripped up the pancake and plopped piece after piece in my mouth. I stopped enough to chug the union into the sauce and throw it into my mouth. The fried treat tasted wonderful after a day of living on energy bars and drinks.

I left a hefty tip on the counter, drank the last of my Pepsi before trudging slowly towards the door, not feeling like getting into the rain again. But as I opened the door with a cringe, I was pleasantly surprised to see the rain had momentarily stopped but you could practically smell the water was still in the air.

The way back to Forks went faster than to Seattle. For once, the roads were nearly empty and if there were any cops, they'd never see me. The dark made me nervous. The town was okay by day but by night I was constantly reminded of every single horror story Jasper told me when we were younger.

I drove by the welcome to Forks sign and tried to remember my way to the mechanics garage. At least the only one I knew about. Of course Jasper could work someplace else but it was doubtful. I am so glad I have common sense.

oOo

Jasper's eyebrow shot up almost to his hairline when he saw me stepping out of the Audi.

"_That's_ what you rented?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Where did you get the money? Don't tell me you stole it." I snorted.

"Like I'd ever do that… again. So how's work going? Whatever it is you're doing."

"I'm fixing the radiator." I nodded, not understanding a word, while sitting down on the Audi's hood. "Makes car change temperature," he explained as if I was five.

"Oooh…"

"How do you know where I work?" He said and pushed his hand into the car.

"I… I ran into Edward earlier. He told me."

"Oh… I talked to Alice and for some reason she wants to meet you." I rolled my eyes.

"You know, I'm not _always_ a bitch."

"Bella, you once yelled at a patrol officer because he pulled you over."

"Considering I yelled myself off the hook, it's not bitchy; it's genius." I couldn't see him but I knew he was rolling his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Uh… a little after ten. So… Alice?"

"What about her?"

"She wants to meet you."

"Right. When?"

"Tomorrow. Since you don't have anything to do."

"How would you know?"

"I guess I wouldn't… Do you have something to do?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Is there no such thing as privacy?"

"You've had almost three years. I think that's enough. Please?" I sighed.

"Okay, fine."

"Thanks, Bells."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. By the way, did mom call you?"

"No. But my phone died a few hours ago. Why?" He shrugged. "You gave her my number?"

"She's our mom. Of course I did." I sighed while playing with the car key. "I'll check when I get back to the motel. If she didn't call I promise I will. Okay?"

He nodded while I got up and opened the door. Jasper looked at the car with wishful eyes.

"Is that a hint so I'll get you a car for your birthday?" He snapped out of it and rolled his eyes again.

"You're hilarious." Okay… I'm guessing he didn't take me seriously. Though I probably shouldn't flaunt my money too much. It may draw unwanted attention.

I rushed through town and skidded to a stop outside "my" door. The drizzle had started once again and I knew there would be thunder tonight. I climbed out of my seat and was halfway to the door when I realized I had neither my crappy phone nor the envelope from Jenkins. I grabbed both items in a hurry before scurrying inside, locking the door and closing the curtains.

I plugged in my charger and as my phone came to life, two missed calls and a voice mail flittered onto the screen. I played it.

'_Hi Bella, its mom. Jasper gave me your number, hope that's okay. Could you give me a call when you get this? It doesn't matter what time. Bye." _

I frowned and clicked on the red button when the automatic voice asked me if I wanted to hear the message again. I checked the time. 10:30. I hesitated when dialing the new number. I would have to talk to her eventually but did I want to do it now? My actions spoke for me as my thumb pressed 'call' before I even realized it. Though I hoped she wouldn't answer.

She didn't.

"_Hello?"_ A deep male voice asked into my ear. I hesitated for a second. _"Hello?"_

"Hi… is Renée there?"

"_May I ask who's calling?" _

"Her daughter." He didn't say anything else but I heard both of them as he lowered the phone.

"_Who is it?" _I heard my mother say.

"_Someone claiming to be your daughter?"_ He asked, more than told. The next second, Renée was speaking softly into my ear.

"_Bella?" _

"Hi… mom."

"_Sweetheart… how are you?" _

"I'm doing okay.

"_I'm glad. I heard you are in Forks." _

"Yeah. And I see you aren't."

"_Oh honey. I am so sorry. I wanted to call so many times but I never had you number and never seemed to be around when you called your brother. Did he tell you everything?" _

"Yep."

"_I didn't want you to find out like that." _

"Why does it matter how I found out? It seems I was the issue either way you spin it."

"_What? Of course not." _

"Then what happened? I thought you two were happy."

"_We were." _

"So… what?"

"_We stopped caring. We fought more often and yes… I wasn't supportive of your father's intent on finding you, but…" _

"But, what?"

"_But he was so persistent and he stopped noticing things. You know how he can be. I'm not trying to blame anyone. We were sad when you were gone but I wanted to give you time. He didn't. _

"Is that all?"

"_Of course not. But let's not go into that. I want to know everything." _

We talked for over an hour. About nothing and everything, all at the same time. I mostly let her do the talking, it's not like I could really be honest and I didn't want to lie to her. When we hung up, I realized I'd been pulling at my hair and with the rain and humidity, I desperately needed a shower.

I yanked off my almost dry clothes and left them on the floor while stepping under the steamy water. It felt good to just stand there and by the time the water turned cold I'd only managed to shampoo my hair and not condition it. I'd regret that tomorrow. I pushed an oversized t-shirt over my head, pulled on a pair of cotton shorts.

I cringed as I sat down on the bed, already eying the chair across the room. I tightly gripped the larger of my knives and placed it beneath my pillow. I lay down and was soon asleep. Though that didn't last very long.

oOo

The first time I woke up, it was by the crack of thunder. It was like pressing your ear as close as you could to a gun and then having it fired. I wasn't proud to admit this but I jumped in surprise. Once… or maybe twice. Alright, it was five times but I was really scared of thunder growing up. Though the lawnmower was worse.

I pressed my eyes tightly as the clock neared four a.m. and when it was apparent I wasn't going to get any sleep now, I got up and turned on my computer, plugging in the wireless internet.

I clicked on the browser and Googled J. Jenkins. I thought it would take forever, not knowing his name but a website popped up immediately.

"Lawyer?" I whispered. "He's a fucking lawyer?" Though in his defense, not a very good one. The webpage seemed to have been made by a twelfth grade amateur with mild grammar misspellings. Even so, I read every word, frowning in the end as it hadn't taught me anything worth remembering.

I shut the lid but then had a thought. I browsed my way back to Google and entered a new search word: Volturi. I wasn't sure whether to be surprised or if I should have known when the search turned up with zero results. I don't even know why I did it, but I guess I had to check.

There was, however, one more thing I needed to check. I typed in my new search: drug lord Laurent. Dozens of articles flittered the screen. I clicked my way towards the most recent one, reading so fast my eyes much have looked almost cartoon-ish.

_Alleged drug lord Laurent was admitted last night at Cedars-Sinai medical center with a stab wound to the neck. Our sources tell us he was rushed into surgery and made it through the night. But in the early hours of Sunday morning, Laurent suffered what appears to be a stroke. He did not make it. _

_Medical examiners have yet to release an autopsy and no words yet if there will be an investigation._

At least now I didn't have to worry about him talking. But the comfort wasn't enough for me to shake my growing interest and worry on Jenkins. He may be a small and fidgeting person but he was the exact type who would rat you out as soon as he felt threatened. I was not going to be dragged down for anything.

oOo

A loud noise in the back of my consciousness woke me up. I scrunched my face deeper into the mattress from hell but the sound didn't go away. That's when I realized it came from the door. I bolted up in bed, relieved I had shut the curtains yesterday.

The knocking, or rather banging, stopped for a moment before resuming. With only taking one step, I made my way to my bag – all the while keeping my eyes on the door – and slid out my gun.

I kept it low with both hands and as I came to the window; I pushed my back towards it and carefully peeked out of the window. I let go of the curtain in confusion. Outside my door stood a petite woman with short black hair and wearing impeccably straight clothes. I ran to the other side of the room, pushed the gun back in my bag and then went to open the door.

The small person's hand stopped midway, apparently on the way of banging again.

"Can I help you?"

"You Bella?" She asked with a friendly smile.

"And you are?"

"Alice. I thought Jasper told you I was coming over. Why are you living here? It's disgusting." She pushed herself into the room and I shut the door with a raised brow and a not-in-the-mood attitude.

"He did but it's not even ten yet."

"I know but we have to be there early."

"Be where? What are you talking about?"

"I thought we'd get to know each other better with some shopping. Then we can have lunch…" I tuned her out after shopping was mentioned. I hate shopping.

"Thanks but no. I- I don't ehm…" but I couldn't think of anything say.

"Do you have something to do?"

"Technically-"

"Well I'm sure whatever it is, it can wait. Can't you just humor me for one day? Jasper really wants us to get along."

"I thought you two hadn't been together that long."

"Only a few months but he said so himself. And I, for one, want to know you." You wouldn't say that if you knew what I did for a living. "Please? If it's horrible we'll sit in the part till dinner." I bit my lip and my eyes went to the envelope on the table. I discretely lean against the table and felt the paper in my hand, holding on to it while pretending to think.

"Okay but I'm not promising I'll try anything on." She actually squealed and I closed my eyes in annoyance. "Please don't do that." She rolled her eyes and they traveled across the room. I took the opportunity to grip the envelope harder and rest it at my side.

"I'll just go and change then," I said, grabbing my bag and shoving the envelope deep, hitting my gun, before she could see too much. I grabbed the first pair of jeans I saw but Alice objected.

"You might want to get a skirt. It's going to get warm today." I snorted in amusement.

"I don't own any skirts." She looked at me incredulously while I simply shrugged. I held onto the jeans, grabbed a grey crafted Rolling Stones t-shirt then disappeared into the bathroom. I changed as fast as I could – not knowing how much she likes to snoop – splashed cold water in my face. I practically glued on my mascara and eyeliner. When I got back, Alice was staring at her phone, typing something on the keyboard. My bag looked untouched and I felt a little relieved. But the feeling quickly washed away as I realized there was no way I could grab either one of my knives or gun without her noticing.

I hated feeling vulnerable and I hated even more to admit I felt vulnerable without some kind of weapon, even though I am one of the most skilled fighters at Volturi. I'm glad I charged my phone otherwise I may have acted paranoid.

"Nice," I said as we got outside and a yellow Porsche Turbo rested next to the Audi. Alice smiled.

"I know. It's so pretty." She touched the hood delicately with a hand. "Is that yours?" She nodded behind me.

"I'm thinking about it." Alice unlocked the door and I started too really like her when we drove off, miles above the speed limit.

oOo

As the minutes and later; hours, went by at a torturously slow pace, I started to actually wish someone would threaten me. I definitely needed to blow off some steam. I was tempted to pick a fight just so I could feel the sweet taste of adrenaline flow through my veins and make me feel like I could do anything.

I'd missed workout so many times I could almost feel my muscles relaxing into the atmosphere and for some reason – feeling normal – made me feel weak. I've told myself that what I do is unforgivable but what if Aro's right? What if we really are making the world – or at least America – a better place? My mind coursed down a dangerous path and I'm not sure whether to feel relieved or annoyed when Alice brought me out of my revere.

"Hello? Bella?" I shook my head, trying to gather what she was saying before my mind slipped.

"Yeah?" Alice guarded me curiously.

"Am I boring you?" She frowned and looked down. Somehow, this made me feel guilty.

"I just got lost in thoughts. What were you saying?"

"I was just wondering what you do… for a living, I mean?"

"Bank robber," I replied sarcastically. It worked. Her frown disappeared. "But seriously, it's nothing really. Very boring. What about you?"

"I work at Vogue. I'm wardrobe on shoots and the spreads. Though I get the feeling you don't read it."

"Not really, no."

"May I take your plates?" A male waiter came to our table, smiled at us and inclined towards Alice's empty plate and mine – almost half-full. Alice inclined she was done and I did the same. I'd lost my appetite.

The day progressed and by four, I'd lost my will to live and I started to snap at each of her questions.

"I don't like shopping," I admitted, like it was obvious. It should be. I've been complaining all day long.

"Don't you know you have to do things you don't like once in a while?"

"No," I answered honestly. "But life's not fair is it?" I grimaced as the street grew longer and longer. I may have to kill someone soon.

"Answer me honestly; do you think this I-don't-give-a-shit attitude is going to hold in the long run?" I huffed but didn't answer.

"Why'd you even bother coming back if you were just going complain about it?"

"I only complain when there's shopping."

"Somehow, I don't believe that. I've seen pictures from when you and Jasper were younger. While I didn't know you, you seemed happier and not this… bitchy."

"I wasn't but time can change someone."

"Sure. But it seems like there's something more."

"Isn't there always?"

"I don't know. But I like honesty."

"It's overrated."

"Only someone with a lot of secrets would say that."

"Then it's a good thing I'm so excellent at keeping secrets." Alice smiled.

"I don't doubt that."

"Can I be honest for a second here?"

"I would appreciate it."

"You don't seem like a raging bitch."

"Thanks," Alice said, confused. "I guess." I shook my head.

"Jasper said you were friends with Rosalie."

"Yeah. We met in college."

"Well, the only times I've had the pleasure of seeing her, she's been… how should I put this… a raging bitch." Alice frowned.

"She likes to speak her mind."

"How lucky for me."

"She's not always like that. Trust me."

"Considering I've only just met you… I don't know what to believe. Maybe I just have that affect on people."

"Probably." I smirked and we started walking back towards Alice's car.

"So does this mean we're done for the day?" I asked with a hopeful glance at all her bags.

"Almost."

"Almost?"

"We still have dinner."

"Sure…" She sped away from the parking lot back to Forks.

It wasn't until we were driving down a very familiar road that I realized where we were going but hoped I was wrong.

"Alice. Where are we going?"

"We're having dinner."

"I know that, but where?" She glanced at me before turning left.

"Oh… at Rosalie's and her brother Edward's house. Well… not really their house but I believe their parents are away on vacation. Jasper will be there too, of course."

"I thought so," I whispered and watched the scenery change and soon the house appeared in front of us.

oOo

"What is she doing here?" Rosalie sneered at me. I smirked while answering sarcastically. She hadn't changed a bit. Literally. Her hair was as long as ever and as blonde as always.

"To ruin your day, of course. Because the world revolves around Rosalie." She huffed lightly while opening the door wider to let us in. Alice gave me a look, to which I raised a brow.

I slowly started down the hallway, tuning out the two of them in the kitchen. It hadn't changed at all. The couch and TV were new but everything else was just like I remembered it.

I disappeared into the narrow bathroom and splashed water at my face. I dried off and took a look at myself in the mirror. My roots needed a new paintjob, I needed a better cleanser and my nails looked horrible. I know I'm vain but I have too much time on my hands now to notice anything else than my looks. I'd have to fix it tomorrow.

As I got out, I could hear Rosalie and Alice in a focused conversation. I wanted to ruin it – nothing would make me happier than to make Rosalie frown. But for some reason, I didn't. I made my way right and towards the pool house where I knew the two missing would be hiding.

Of course then were. Playing pool too. It really doesn't matter what he wears, Edward always looks gorgeous. Especially in a deep marine buttoned down shirt with black jeans. Just stating the obvious.

"Hello boys." I said with new confidence, leaning against a pillar next to the door. Edward looked up from the game, studying me intently before adverting his gaze. Jasper looked past me, at the house.

"When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Alice's in the kitchen." I nodded to the side and watched as my brother left the game, handed me the pool stick and then left the room. I turned my head back to the centre. For a second, Edward said nothing and it wasn't an awkward silence. Too charged to be awkward.

"Wanna play?" He asked, holding up the triangle.

"Sure." I pushed away from the pillar and peeled off my jacket, throwing it onto the chair in the corner. It didn't escape my notice how intently he was fixating on everything except me. He checked the pockets after the last one. I saw it at my side, took it up and rolled it across the mat.

"I'll break," I said and lined up the stick.

"Nice tat," Edward said quietly and I paused. My gaze went down to the inside of my left wrist and looked at the Russian writing; der´mo sluchaet · sya. Which stands for; shit happens. It was usually covered by a thick black bracelet but I had forgotten to put it back on after the shower last night. My gaze then met his.

"It's from a bet." I shot hard and three stripes went in.

"Woa," he said. I used to suck at pool. Or at least he thought so. It was mostly an act so he'd teach me.

"I've been practicing."

"So I see." I continued and put the ball in the corner pocket before moving on to the side and nailed that one too.

"You're wounding my ego," he said as I came to stand by him, trying to kill the two remaining before number eight.

"I highly doubt that," I said, my voice low. I bent down and slid the stick between my fingers a few times more than necessary. Edward moved away and I tried not to smirk. I chugged the white ball across the mat before it pushed down number ten to my left.

"A bet, huh?" I nodded and surveyed the mat, looking for the best option.

"What kind of bet?"

"The silly kind."

"It would be nice if you answered once in a while."

"It would wouldn't it? You ask a lot of questions." I kept my gaze at him before placing number five in the side pocket before pushing it down to the mat and my task at hand.

I walked around the table, seized my shot, took it and won the game. I stood back up, studying him for a moment before huffing a chuckle and taking my time placing the stick back in its place.

"A friend thought it would be fun to get tattoos. The other one choosing the object or, in my case, script. We couldn't see what it was before the ink was completed. One who backed out lost." I turned my head, looking back at him before my body turned with me.

"I take it you lost?" I nodded.

"Lucky to I suppose. I don't think Emmett would have appreciated to have Hello Kitty's warm smiley face permanently attached to him." Edward raised a brow. "I told you; I'm meaner now."

"So you did." That's when Alice popped her head in – making both mine and Edward whirl towards her.

"Pizzas' here." I grabbed my jacket and was out the door before Edward had time to react.

oOo

When we got inside, the overwhelming smell of pizza filled our nostrils. I had to admit, it smelled good. There were six chairs around the table. Rosalie and Jasper were already sitting down. Alice sat next to Jazz and so I had to choose between Rosalie and Edward. I'm sure it'd be fun to sit next to the bitch but I knew Jazz would be disappointed if I was rude. I didn't want that.

Conversation flowed easily, for some. I ate quietly while feeling more and more irritated by the second. I needed to go for a run later. It became harder and harder to focus on what they were saying so after a while I stopped listening all together and I could only think about how boring normal life really is.

oOo

"Are we leaving yet?" I asked and leaned against the counter.

"Actually I'm going with Jasper." Alice said while placing the last piece in the dishwasher and then moving towards the door.

"So what am I going to do?"

"I'm sure Edward or Rose- I'm sure Edward has time." I sighed and watched them leave. Backstabbers.

"Come on. It's like you're afraid to be alone with me," Edward said with a chuckle and opened the basement door. I yanked on my jacket while walking down the stairs, pushing my hair out from underneath it. The lights flickered on the Mercedes.

"Not your precious Volvo?" I mocked while opening the door.

"It's blocked in," he replied with a shrug.

oOo

I kept my gaze fixated to my left, not even glancing in his direction. To say it was awkward would have been putting it lightly. What did he want me to say? Sorry I took off? I kinda was but not for whatever reasons he thought. Not really. And why couldn't he open his fucking mouth? He just sat there and drove. He never had a problem talking while driving before.

When the car stopped outside the hotel, I didn't turn towards him but quietly thanked him for the ride before moving my hand to the door handle.

"Can I ask you something?" I dropped my hand, sat back and turned my head towards him with a sigh.

"Sure."

"Why did you leave?" I dropped my gaze and swallowed before answering.

"Because… I wanted to. I don't like when people put so much pressure on me."

"What pressure?"

"I never wanted to go to college. I was perfectly ha- I was fine before going away. To say it was the biggest mistake of my life would be putting it lightly. You have no idea what I've gone through. Don't ever judge me." And then I left. I didn't look back as I almost ran inside and heard him drive away a few minutes later.

I took off my jacket and threw it in an unknown direction. I was prepared to go for a run but I didn't feel that overwhelming urge for adrenaline anymore. I did, however, pull out a mini bottle of Smirnoff from my bag, along with the yellow envelope.

I sat down on the bed, crossed my legs, took a swig and felt the liquid burn my throat. It felt good. Then I looked at the yellow paper before ripping off the red tag and pulling out the contents.


	7. ArmaGoddamnMotherfuckinGeddon

_**Arma-Goddamn-Motherfuckin-Geddon**_

The first few pages were old newspaper articles, clipped out over a span of eighty years back and to the present. On some, the ink had faded and the paper was worn. A few held that yellow staleness and the newest creased with folding lines.

I picked up the first article. It was short and very vague and made me scrunch my eyebrows up in confusion.

_March, 1967, Atlantic City, New Jersey _

_A recent development has been made in research regarding Parkinson's disease. A cryogenic surgery, developed by Dr. Irvin Spencer Cooper, along with levodopa therapy, developed by Greek neurologist; Dr. George Constantine Cotzias is set to minimize symptoms. _

_While Dr. Cooper freezes the affected part of the brain, Cotzias has seen the symptoms – clenched hands, speech and balance difficulty – of mine workers in Chile. He succeeded in treating patients with L-dopa and the reason for success is that he used a much higher dosage. _

The article goes on in explaining exactly what L-dopa is and how Parkinson's "works". I just stare at the forty year old paper in my hand, completely stunned as to why Aro would want me to read all of this. It's not like he couldn't get this off Wikipedia.

But when I picked up the second piece of paper, dated a little over twenty years ago, I saw this wasn't about medical findings. Apparently, a Corporal Denis Lortie entered the Quebec National Assembly and opened fire. He killed three, wounded thirteen before sergeant-at-arms René Jalbert managed to calm Lortie down. Jalbert later received the Cross of Valour.

Harry Gold is arrested and sentenced to thirty years in prison for stealing United States nuclear secrets for the Soviet Union in December of 1950.

In 1979, the original night stalker began terrorizing the people in Southern California.

And the list went on and on. There were articles dating back to before WW2. I read all of them, or at least skimmed them. Next, I pulled forth five pages of personally written sections. I assumed they had been ripped out of a journal.

The first segment went like this;

_It's getting closer, I can feel it. Hitler doesn't notice, of course. He's too obsessed with his own egotism to notice anything beside what could make him more powerful. _

_He takes my advises like a son to a father. He trusts me. And while it disgust me to be wearing and saying what I am, every day, I know it won't be long now till it's over. _

On the third page, the writer's words become more sinister and morbid.

_I was forced to watch what they did to those people. The hole was so large and dark. It chilled me to my spine how someone could do such a disgraceful act towards their own kind. The women cried for the children. They were the first to go. The kids, still horrified, as shots of metal pierced their mother's skulls and watched as they became lifeless before dropping into the pit. _

_They waved their guns and the kids lined up, too scared to say a word or even cry. One soldier went from the left lane and worked his way to the right. As he came to the last one, a little girl – not even ten years of age – he hesitated for a second. She started crying – I could see the tears. The soldier then raised his weapon and fired. The girl dropped to the ground and he kicked her in with the rest. _

_The sight will haunt me forever. I shook the whole way home, feeling more and more like a coward for not standing up to them. But then they'd know who I was. I couldn't have that. Not yet. Not when I've worked this hard and was so close. _

_Revenge will be sweet. _

The last section ended in a manner I was not ready to believe simply by having it on a written page and given to me by a lawyer worse than Ted.

_I've never felt anything like it. It terrified me but once it was done, the guilt went away. I laughed and then went to my knees as they could no longer support me. _

_I still remember every single second of it. Their leader had said his goodbyes. I was hiding inside, hearing it all. I still could not believe a sane woman would have the stomach to kiss a man like that, let alone marry him. It disgusted me. She was no better than him. None of them were. But they'd suffer soon enough. _

_They came inside; he closed the door. I held the cyanide cylinder tighter and waiter for her to come closer. It was a good thing the room was soundproof. _

_I stepped out just as she came closer to the couch. Hitler was still with his back towards me. He was standing before the dresser, looking at something I could not see. I stepped forth and before she could make a noise, I shoved the cyanide into her mouth and clamped it shut. She bit down out of instinct and I saw life leave her wide open eyes. I laid her down on the couch, watching the coward as he sighed and held up a picture frame before setting it down again. _

"_This is it Eva," he said in a monotone voice. _

"_True, it is," I replied. Hitler spun around and his eyes first met his wife's slumped figure on the bed. _

"_What are you doing?" He asked. His voice was harsh and angry. _

"_What should have been done a long time ago." _

"_Are you doing to kill me?" I nodded. _

"_I am." _

"_Then what are you waiting for, my boy. Come on. Raise your pistol, like a man, and shoot me. Don't be a coward." But I didn't raise my pistol. That is not what I was sent to do. He was not going to be murdered. He would be forced into suicide. Hitler came forth; raised his own Walther and handed it to me. I gripped it tight. _

"_How long have you been working for the filth?" _

"_I'm not. Nor am I working against them. You've pissed off a lot of people. Not just the Jews." _

"_I am a God." _

"_No, you're not." I then raised the gun to his temple and fired. His head pushed away at impact and then jerked forward. The smell of burning flesh entered my nostrils. I knew they would come in now. I had to leave. I opened the door behind the bookcase and fled the bunker. But I kept something from that room. And I will never reveal what. _

The journal, while it made me just the teensiest emotional, was fascinating. I read it through and through, each segment pulling me in further and further. I wanted to know more. Because, if this was true – and to be completely honest, no one could be one hundred percent sure – it would change history forever.

I laid the page down on the bed and thought for a moment.

The only reason Hitler committed suicide was to avoid caption. He would've been dead in prison. That wouldn't have been a dramatic enough ending for him. He'd have to kill himself. That way, he'd be remembered forever and not for getting his throat slashed upon arrival at the closest Jail.

This wasn't just finding a soothing experimental treatment for Parkinson's. This was… huge. I couldn't even begin to think if it could be true. It was surreal to think it but the details were so specific. Could it be true?

I pushed away from the bed, grabbed my laptop and turned it on, my fingers trembling as I waited for the internet to work. I typed too fast and every word got misspelled. But now I wasn't just shocked, I was giddy. This guy wouldn't be prosecuted – if he's even alive today. He'd be a hero. He'd be converted into a saint when passed. He'd be bigger than the fucking Beatles.

This is unbelievable.

I started Googling everything I could about Hitler. Where he lived most his life, who he met, who he slept with, who his most trust soldiers and friends were. I needed to know everything. And this was just half the pile of paper I'd received from Jenkins. Imagine what I could find out when I was done with the rest.

The reported witnesses heard the shot around 15:30. They found both Hitler and Braun dead on the couch. Braun was slouched away from her husband and Hitler had a large hole through his temple. The room was described exactly as mystery writer said it was. But this proved nothing, unfortunately. Anyone could have written it and described from reports and whatnot. I needed a specialist. I didn't care if Aro would be pissed. I needed to know the authenticity.

I grimaced at my phone as I picked it up and dialed a number I never wanted to dial.

"Yes?"

"I am only going to say this once and if you ever make me relive it, I'll tell everyone about that night in Vladivostok and you know as well as I do that Aro won't be too happy if I let that little detail of my training slip through my pretty lips."

"Alright, what do you want?" Caius said; his voice a tad nicer than before but still cold.

"I need a favor."

"A favor you say?"

"Yes."

"Which would be…?"

"I need a graphologist." He was silent for a moment.

"And why would you need one of those?"

"That's none of your business."

"If you have something relating to the company, it is my-"

"Do you know one that can be trusted or not?"

"Maybe."

"Start talking or I will."

"His name is Garrett. He lives in Idaho."

"Are you sure he can be trusted?"

"Do you think I would give you his name if I didn't?"

"I don't know. Would you?"

"I'm not." Caius provided me with a phone number and then hung up. I dialed the number, not caring it was close to midnight.

"Hello?"

"Is this Garrett?"

I revealed myself and he seemed to easy up.

"How can I help you?"

"I understand you're good with… letters." He laughed.

"Yeah you could say that."

"How good?"

"If you have enough material-"

"I do."

"Alright. You could fax me and I'll-"

"I can't do that. It's hard to explain. You know Aro."

"That I do. Unfortunately, I don't have any time off until next week."

"That's fine. I'll come to you."

"That's a long drive." I'm sure I could make it in six. Or maybe five, if I skipped a few lights.

"It's not a problem. When do you have time?"

"Sometime before noon?"

"I'll be there." Then I hung up and threw the phone next to me. I packed the journal back in the yellow envelope and then grabbed the next set of papers. I should probably get some sleep but I was too wired up to rest at a time like this. I went back to the documents.

A few more articles, none of them held any inters to me as I'd just read about Hitler's – possible – assassination. Despite the disturbing nature of it all, it was fucking awesome. But I read the words, stored them in my mind and then came to a white A4 paper, covering what looked like photographs. I removed the rubber band and crumbled up the white paper before taking a look.

Most of them were in black and white. Most had disintegrated over the years but some were new in bright colors.

I couldn't quite focus on them as all I could think about was how long till I could drive off. I can't explain it but I needed to know who this person was and if he's still alive. But I knew one thing. I would not be revealing this to anyone, except Garrett. It'd be chaos if this got out. Another reason why I didn't want to fax it. Shit knows what could happen if the underage receptionist looked at the pages one second too many. I don't have time for this like that.

oOo

I left sometime around four, feeling giddy. I'd gotten two hours of sleep but still felt rested. I dressed in dark grey jeans, a basic white tank, black converse and a thinner navy zipped through hoody.

The town was still in darkness but the sky was lighting up. I couldn't spot a single lamp lit in any of the passing houses.

I had to stop for gas in Olympia and took the time to get some real breakfast. Or as real as you can get with a cheese sandwich and a Red Bull. I munched on the remains in the car and when I took off again, the sky was bright with only minimal clouds in sight.

I pushed the speedometer to its level and it felt nice to to really feel the vibrations within the car.

As I passed into the state of Idaho, I had to slow down. I'd never been, so following the signs got tedious real quick.

Around ten I stopped by the address Garrett has provided me with but did a double take. The apartment complex was six stories high and looked like shit from the outside, the green paintjob fading quickly. I got out either way and looked at the names listed. He'd given me a last name, though I had no doubts it was a fake and pressed the intercom button. A groggy voice answered.

"Yes?"

"It's Bella." It took him a second before buzzing me in. I climbed the stairs, grimacing at the stark ammonia smell. I would not be staying long. I reached the highest floor and the door opened before I had a chance to knock.

A tall man with dirty blonde hair stood in jeans and nothing else. His skin was tanned, muscles pronouncing the arms and abs. I resisted the urge to check out more of him.

"Wanna come in?" He said; his voice much clearer and smoother without the disturbance of phone lines. I didn't say anything as I went inside, not taking off my shoes or jacket. The ammonia smell evaporated as soon as I got through the hallway.

"I wasn't expecting you this early." I inspected the place, making my eyes move fast before turning towards him, watching as he pulled a white wifebeater over his head.

"I'm not a patient person." I held out the envelope, which he took and walked down a step to a studio. He laid the document on a blank artist table and then hit a switch, the bottom turning white with light. I reached out and put a hand on the document before he could look at it. He met my eyes.

"Whatever you read here, will never leave this room, unless it's fake, then you can make fun of me all you want." H nodded slowly.

"Alright." I removed my hand and he sat down, reading a few lines. "Interesting reading material," he muttered and grabbed a small magnifying glass. "What _exactly_ is it you want to know?"

"If it's authentic." Garrett looked over the papers, one by one, for several minutes.

"Well," he said while still searching for whatever it is he was searching for. "It's definitely written by the same person. And he's left handed."

"That's all?" I asked with disappointment evident in my voice.

"Chill. I've only just started. It takes time. Sit down and take a breath." I frowned but sat down on the faded black couch. My phone started vibrating and after getting up and walking out onto the balcony, I still kept close eyes on Garrett's unmoving form.

"Yeah?"

"How's my favorite person in the whole world doing?" I bit back a smile.

"Hey Emmett. I thought you said you were going away?"

"I was… I am. But I got some time off to call. How are things going?"

"Fine, I guess. We all had dinner last night. Pretty boring. I never knew it'd be so dull having dinner at seven o'clock." Emmett laughed.

"I thought you said you wanted normal."

"Not so sure anymore. Hey, listen. Have you talked to Aro recently?"

"No, should I have?"

"It's just that… he asked me to go to J. Jenkins office."

"Really? Why?"

"He wanted me to look over some documents," I hesitated while speaking. "I'm not sure if I should be telling you this."

"It's okay. But no, I haven't talked to him. Anything weird in there you needed to talk about?" I looked back at Garrett. "I'm not sure. I'll get back to you."

"Sure. Are you okay?"

"Just fine. Listen, I have to go but we'll talk later, okay?"

"Of course. Bye."

"Bye." I hung up and stepped back inside. Garrett was still leaning over the table.

"That your boyfriend?"

"No. How're things going?"

"Just fine."

"So what can you tell me?"

"The same as before." I huffed and sat up on a table. "You really have no patience do you?"

"You should have seen me take my finals. They insist you sit for a certain amount of time. I got done in half. Just sitting and listening to people frivolously scribbling on their papers can really drive a person crazy." I plucked at a few things on the table before Garrett spoke again.

"While it's written by the same person, it's not with the same pen. As I can see, two different pens – with different shades of ink – were used. One, a Fountain pen and the other a Dip pen. Do you know the differences?" I nodded.

"What does it matter?"

"Dip pens were the predecessor of the Fountain pen. Mostly artist use them because of the smoothness it provided onto their work. If someone would have used it back then when he could used a much more affective pen, it must have held some sort of value."

"Which means?"

"I don't do psychology. Though – looking from the texture – I'd say it was old, really old. Maybe a family thing."

"A pen?"

"These types of pens aren't the same as those we keep in our drawers. Only those who have people watch their writing, uses these types of pens. Some even buys pens for hundreds of dollars."

"Can you still use those today?"

"Well… yes. You can essentially use anything from decades, even centuries ago but just because you can, doesn't mean that you do. Most people who use Dip pens nowadays do it for special occasions; weddings, bar mitzvahs', baby showers. You name it. royals are known to use fancy pens."

"So what does that tell us?"

"It's definitely from the forties. The letters. While the Dip is definitely older, the inks are different but from the same decade, the Fountain is much newer."

"Okay," I said and released a sigh.

"Now. Do you see the lines, how they shape?" I leaned closer, looking through the glass.

"Sure."

"They are made very precise but with a rushed hand. In this segment, it's implied he didn't have much time and he was writing this down so not to forget it. That was with the Fountain. It's easier to write with it because the pen didn't need to be inked every few seconds. Now, with this one, a longer paragraph, he's writing slower, with the Dip. He feels that this section is more important than the last one."

"Could you just make a dot when a section is more important than another?" Garrett nodded and pressed small black points to the papers.

"For the authenticity… looking at the lines he made, I'd say someone truly believed what he was writing. Of course, that can be faked. But at some points and it's easy to miss, his hand goes softer and the ink gets lighter. It's in one of the segments with the Dip."

"But what does this say? Is it real or is it from some nut job looking for attention? Thinking he could have changed history or some shit like that?"

"I have two sides. For one, I'm ninety-five percent sure this is authentic and that the guy wasn't psychotic. But, I'd also say – from reading this – that it's bullshit. Hitler killed himself like a coward. It's how it happened. At least that's how people have told it since." I nodded. "Did that help at all?"

"Strangely enough, yes."

"Do you believe it?"

"I don't know. But there wasn't actually anyone inside the study when the shot went off. No one saw it. So in all theoretical sense, it could be true." Garrett looked at the paper for a moment before meeting my eyes again.

"Where did you get this?"

"That's not on the need-to-know." He nodded, stuffed the papers back into the envelope and handed it over to me. I started at it.

"I didn't make copies. Even if I did, no one would believe it. And those are the originals. This last hour never happened."

"You're good." He flashed a brilliant smile.

"The best."

"Don't get cocky."

oOo

I left a few minutes later. While the trip was long and I didn't find out exactly what I wanted, I was more conformation than when I first read it. But what did it mean? What did any of it mean? Why would Aro want me to read this? Had he read it? Have anyone read it? Did Jenkins know? Why do I know? There were so many questions without any answer and it was driving me crazy.

The long empty roads seemed to taunt me, making me want to go faster. I had to get back and call Aro. I needed to know what was going on. It just couldn't be random. In the end, everything has a connection.

And I, with this new and disturbing information, wanted – no, needed – to know what other secrets Jenkins might be hiding in that breakable filing cabinet of hit. I could do it tonight. He'd never know. Though he'd probably have an alarm system. Could be cut. He didn't seem like he's too careful, other than the crappy lock.

I would get back around four. I could call Aro first, demand an explanation or I could stop by Seattle first and take a little look. It wouldn't take long. Half an hour, tops. My mind was made up before I wound up in the busy city, rush hour prominent and I once again cursed at the unmoving traffic.

I drove slowly over the bridge, keeping my eyes out for Max. I stopped in between two containers, getting out and making my way to the side to peek through. From my vantage point I saw containers, containers and more containers. But behind loomed huge white cylinders and behind them, the office building. I'd have to walk.

So I creep forward, looking at my sides, back and front for any sign of moving people. There were none. I leapt between the metal objects and then came to a complete stop as the grounds opened up before me. I'd never be able to run right across without someone – if they were watching – seeing me.

I pressed along the side to where I saw the tracks. At least there I had places to hide. And just as I was bracing myself to run, a loud voice entered my ears. I pressed back against the metal box, crouching down so I'm almost sitting on the asphalt.

My eyes are wide in alert and my hand moved down towards my ankle. When I hear the voice coming closer, place my hands against the box and soundlessly creep away to the side. I sit down on my knees and listen for him. Only a guy could have such a low voice.

I hear his footsteps. He's getting closer. I hold my breath – not because I thought he could hear me but the sound was distracting me from hearing his words – and peeked around the corner.

I relax as I see the dark figure is Max. He has his back towards me, talking furiously into a cell phone. Though his voice rises at time, he seems more afraid than angry.

"I dunno. Late, I suppose." He waited a few seconds. "Drivin'. Silver, shiny. I dunno. It was dark." My heart started to beat a little faster. I let out my breath before holding it again. "Like I said; it was dark and I didn't see much… She was hot." Max turned and I moved away before he could see me. "Long black hair, pale skin. That's all I got. I'm sorry, Sir." I started getting mad, my hands trembled. Who the fuck was he talking to? Another thing I had to find out. I'd pop in for a visit after Jenkins.

I was about to leave, leap across the space and seek cover behind a small shed along the track when Max started talking again.

"She was from _them_, Sir. I'm sure of it. She talked like them. Saying how the next time someone was asking for directions, it would be where they could bury me… It's hard not to, Sir. Of course, Sir. I understand, Sir." I rolled my eyes and made my move.

I crashed my back against the shed and peeked around the corner. I couldn't see Max from here, the containers covered quite a bit. But I knew he was still there. The silence around the Island was deafening and he shoveled his feet around the ground. I started running along the tracks, feeling my muscles ache at the effort. It felt great.

I saw the office now. The lights were on so I knew they were still there. I made my way around the back, finding Jenkins office window quickly. He was sitting at his desk with his back towards me. I raised my head a little more and tried to see what he was doing but getting nothing. I spotted the filing cabinet in the corner and then shifted my gaze back to Jenkins.

Thinking over my options – I really didn't want to go too extreme – maybe just a small fire? I crept to the front, watching through the window if the secretary was paying attention. She wasn't. Talking amicably into the phone like some high school freshman to her best friend over her newest crush. Pathetic.

I surveyed the ground, looking for anything that wouldn't explode like in that robot movie Emmett made me watch.

Hmm… lighting a car on fire was not ideal but I knew from experience it wouldn't blow up if just the engine was on fire. Thought I had been told not to talk about that.

I pushed myself away from the wall, crouching down on the other end of a faded red Ford which had its peak in the early eighties. I was doing it a favor, really.

I tried the door but found it locked. That made me frown. Who'd even be so desperate as to steal this? Here? But that wasn't a problem. I felt underneath the front. I found a latch and pressed. The hood popped with a thud. I looked back towards the door and window. No one.

I lifted the heavy metallic lid and slid my hand in, twitching the lighter. I had to shake it a few times before there was a flame. I don't really know where, but something under there ignited and I placed the lid down, slowly.

I made my way across the lot, leaning next to the door, and waited. I could see small signs of smoke and listened behind me. Nothing yet. Maybe I should catch the cheerleader's attention. I scratched the window a little and then retrieved my hand. I sighed in frustration to find her still on the phone, laughing loudly. Idiot. So I clenched my hand hard and punched it to my side, hitting the door with a bang. That made her look up.

"Oh My God!" I exhaled. Finally. "Your car is on fire!" The door burst open and nearly hit me. Both Jenkins and cheerleader rushed out, cheery dialing a number on her phone. Jenkins was standing still, awestruck, I supposed.

I walked fast; making sure none of them saw me before closing the door and locking it. I made my way to his office and locked that door too. Maybe I was paranoid but I hadn't been taught any better. I made a beeline for the filing cabinet and opened the drawer furthest down.

Nothing but boring legal shit. No names worth repeating. I opened the middle one. Same shit in there. Did he have actual, legal clients? It was hard to believe but I guess I could after what I'd read last night.

I searched the desk for a key. I laughed when I found it. Wow, he was such an amateur.

The metal drawer opened willingly to me and I feasted on the content. Names I didn't know entered my line of vision. I tried to get a look inside but I must have been there longer than I thought because the next second, a loud banging started on the outer door. I whirled my head around, cursing myself for not acting faster. Well, since no names sounded familiar – though I couldn't rule out that they might be intentionally named wrong – I closed the drawer, threw the key away and then jumped out the window. I heard the door crash open but I was halfway across the space.

I pushed my back against a metal shed, looking back to see if they had seen me. Didn't seem like it. I started walking faster, only relaxing as I saw my car. I still had to see Max. I started walking around, listening for him.

"Max?" I called calmly. "Max? Don't you know it's rude to hide?" Then I heard him. He was walking, dragging his shoes on the asphalt. I pushed myself around the container and then around the next. I could still hear him.

I crashed into him, having been waiting behind the corner, and then pressed his face to the container. I couldn't let him see more of me.

"Hello Max," I said in a sugary sweet voice. "Good to see you. How have you been? Well, I don't really have time for small talk. I need you to tell me something." He tried to get away but I twisted his arm in an unnatural angle and he groaned in pain. "Don't… do that again. I just want to talk."

"I ain't telling you nothin'."

"Oh I bet you will." I bent his arm a little more. "You see. If I just push a little more and then smash my fist down, you will lose your arm. Not just break it, you will lose it completely. Do you understand?" He didn't respond. I crashed my knee into his lower back. He groaned again. "Do you understand?" He nodded. I felt proud to come up with a lie so fast. I was growing.

"Yes. I need my arm."

"Then just answer this little question. Who were you talking to before?"

"What?" He asked, a little out of breath.

"Who. Were. You. Talking. To. Before? I heard you on the phone. Don't lie to me."

"I don't know."

"You don't know who you were talking to? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"I swear. I don't know who he is. I don't know his name." Somehow, his fear seemed too real for him to be making this up.

"Alright. Then why were you talking to him? You can't be so thick to leave out personal description to just anyone, can you?"

"He… He works for… I dunno. He's a good person. J trusts him. That's good nuf for me." I thought about it.

"I see… unfortunately that's not enough for me." I smashed my fist into his elbow and heard the crack. I pushed his face into the metal again and watched how his limp form crashed to the ground. He'd be fine once he woke up, though working a mayor headache and a broken arm.

I made my way back to my car and drove for the bridge. I waited as the fire truck broke across and then moved away like nothing had just happened.

oOo

I drove through town, not sure how to process my failure. But I knew what I needed to do. Become invisible. If Max had told whoever it was on the phone, my physical description, then I needed to change. Now.

I drove till I found a hair salon, parked at the curb and walked inside fast. The place was nearly empty.

"Hello. How may I help you?" A petite Asian woman asked with a bright smile. Why do they say that? Seriously?

"Cut my hair?" I asked, not sure I'd gone into the right store.

"Take a seat." The small woman noted toward a chair in front of a mirror. Wow, I looked like hell. My hair was disheveled, though it was always like that. It looked like I'd slept in my make-up. Which, I probably did and my skin looked incredibly pale.

"So what would you like?" Another woman came to me and held her hands in my hair, feeling the texture.

"As long as I don't look like I do now, its fine." She stared at me, alarmed. "Ex boyfriend. He's crazy." She seemed to relax.

"Well, we can-"

"You know what? Just start cutting and then I need to color it also."

"Alright." I tuned out the next half hour.

My leg started to jump nervously after a while. I tried to tune out basically everything in my mind but it was impossible. I needed to call Aro and talk to him. I needed answer and if he didn't give them I didn't know what I would do. He just can't give me something like this and expect me not to ask questions. Or maybe he did. I don't know. It was all so confusing. And I needed to spend more time with Jazz and dad. I couldn't just show up and then ditch them. Ugh! Why did life have to be so hectic and complicated?

"All done!" My eyes snapped open and I was met by a sight I had not seen in a long time. My long hair was gone and instead I was sporting sidebangs and my ringlets were soft and resting an inch or two below my collarbones. I actually looked… _pretty_. I'm not sure I liked that.

"Is it bad?" The woman behind me asked; her voice a little nervous.

"No. It's good. It's really good." She smiled in appreciation.

"What kind of color do you want?"

"I don't know. As long as it's not black or blonde, it's okay."

The woman started, not telling me the color. It took an additional hour and I was at my breaking point when the blow-dryer went on and I mentally calculated the square root of my phone number. Yeah I will go to such drastic measures.

"All done." I almost couldn't look. My hair was my one vanity. If she'd bleached it, she'd die. Literally. Shit knows how much she was listening before. But it wasn't blonde. Or black. It was dark cherry with subtle highlights. I almost looked like my "old" self. I'm still not sure whether I liked it or not.

I paid and left, needing to get home and sleep before the bruises underneath my eyes became permanent. I stopped for gas again and could already feel a headache growing. And while the gas was pumping into the car, I realized my hypocrisy. I demanded answers but gave none. I didn't want to be like that. I wondered how much I could reveal without him getting suspicious.

oOo

Once I got back to the motel, I locked myself in and placed all the documents and my laptop on the bed. I breathed out in exhaustion and ran a hand through my hair before dialing.

"Isabella. How are you?" Aro greeted me a few seconds later. His voice was light and welcoming but I'd learned early not to trust the façade.

"I'm fine, Aro. My apologizes for taking so long to call."

"No worries. I assume you've gone through the documents?"

"Yes."

"How did you find the information?"

"Disturbing." Aro chuckled quietly.

"I would suspect so."

"What does it mean? Is it true?"

"Didn't Garrett inform you enough?" Son of a bitch.

"Garrett told you?" My voice almost shook. Aro wasn't someone you should piss off.

"Yes. He found it suspicious. The document. Don't be mad. He did his job. He's very good at it. Though I am a bit disappointed in you, Isabella. Why would you go to such extremes when I am willing to give you the explanation you deserve after observing my favor?" My fingers trembled.

"I'm sorry, Aro. I did not know. Forgive me."

"You are young. You will learn. Now, to answer your question; yes, it is all true."

"That's… a lot to take in. Who wrote it?"

"That is something I am not obliged to reveal."

"Excuse me?"

"There are some things I cannot explain just yet."

"Alright…" I said warily. "What can you tell me?"

"As of right now, I only want your take on it."

"My take is it's ludicrous. And yet highly feasible. Is it even connected?"

"Oh I can assure you it is."

"It can't just be one person."

"Precisely."

"If I didn't know any better – which I don't – I'd say all of this-"

"And there is more. This is just a taste. I couldn't have you read everything. That'd take weeks, months," Aro interrupted me.

"All of this is by a group of people. Though I don't know why the secrecy. Why would they deliberately let someone else take the honor? I can understand the blame."

"You can't think of one explanation?" That's when I understood.

"You're saying-"

"I'll speak to you soon, Isabella. Don't go behind my back again," he finished before hanging up.

I was left awestruck in the middle of my motel room, staring at the wall, like it would start speaking to me any moment.

* * *

_**AN: I had such a good time writing this particular chapter. It was fascinating to think if just one thing in history changed, how the world would look today. Though a lot of you will probably think what the hell is going on. Truth is; I needed some history piece and this fit right into it. You'll find out why, soon enough. **_


	8. Sweet Sacrifice

_**Sweet Sacrifice **_

The wind breezed past us at an unusually slow rate. If it weren't for the waves crashing against the nearby rocks, I would have thought he'd driven wrong. The beach was low on people, only a jogger and someone taking a walk with their dog were visible.

I yawned for the fiftieth time that morning, not at all waking up to the change in location or the fish-like smell. Jazz, on the other hand, couldn't have been any more alert. I frowned at him.

"So what did you want to talk about?" He asked while we went off the path and into the sand.

"About how I haven't been… _fair. _I guess that's the word. If you still have questions…" Jasper looked thoughtful as we walked on.

"Where have you been, exactly?"

"I was in Europe." He looked up with a raised brow. "I'm serious. I needed some time to think." At least it wasn't a complete lie.

"About what?"

"I never wanted to go to college, Jazz. That was your thing. I didn't care. And I still don't. I don't handle pressure well and I cracked."

"You cracked? After two months?"

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Considering you're the most stable person I know, it is." I snorted. _I'm not stable._

"It's true. And after a while, I went and stayed in New York before coming to L.A. I kind of live there now."

"But you hate the sun," he said in an incredulous voice.

"Yeah, well… we can't have everything." He's brows knitted together.

"Why haven't you been home before?"

"I thought we covered this before," I mumbled, kicking a rock and watching it hurl into the ocean.

"You didn't really answer my question."

"There's nothing more to say about it." Jasper shook his head and threw a rock across the surface, watching how it jumped for several seconds before plummeting into the water.

"You're so vague. About everything."

"Believe it or not but I like having a private life. You don't need to know my reasons. Isn't it enough that I'm home now?" '

"Not really, no. You should have been here before. You shouldn't have just left like that. Do you have any idea what we've been through? We thought you were dead, Bella. Dead. Do you understand how hard it was? To just go on like nothing happened? Then you started writing and maybe, if we were lucky, you'd call every five months." He stopped and turned away. It didn't matter, I couldn't look at him.

While I was completely overridden with guilt and shame, I also felt angry, pissed off. He thinks they've had it rough? Did he think I was living on fucking sunshine and Egyptian cotton sheets? I was thrown into a four by six meter cell with one door to shed light and that was it. The ground was hard and cold. I never had a bed. I never even had a blanket. And I had to stay in there for the entire night, sometimes without dinner. During the day I was dragged out to the grass and beaten until I did what they told me to. He thinks he had it bad? He doesn't even know the meaning.

But he was ignorant and while I wanted nothing more than to lash out, I unclenched my hands and swallowed before speaking; remembering to keep my voice calm and leveled.

"I realize that. But you can't even begin to imagine what I've had to give up. Don't judge me based on your take of this." He still didn't look at me but I saw his face was set and then I knew just how long he'd been mad at me, and never gotten a chance to lash out.

"Believe it or not; I don't want to be mad at you. You're finally home and I can't be happy about it. I just want you to feel bad about bailing and then I get so mad at myself because of how long is it going to take for you to come home next time. Five years? Longer? I don't want to live like this. I can't stand it." My face dropped. "We used to be close, used to talk about almost anything." I nodded, pursing my lips. "And that didn't change just because you left. You distanced yourself and got so defensive." I nodded, knowing what he was referring to but at this rate I was more willing to talk about Volturi than that.

"Yeah. Things change. But… I'm promising now that I will stay in touch. Give me your phone." I took it and typed in my cell and condo number. "Anytime you call my cell, I'll pick up. I promise. Okay?" He narrowed his eyes at me but finally nodded and then smiled slightly.

"I've missed you, you know?" I smirked back.

"And why wouldn't you? I'm awesome."

We sat down near the edge and talked about nothing in particular. Completely random thoughts kept us preoccupied for half an hour before Jasper had to leave. Why anyone would be forced to work on a Sunday is beyond me. I stayed seated for a while longer before taking a walk down the beach and then back up. I removed my shoes halfway down and Goosebumps appeared on my arms as my feet made contact with the chilly North Pacific.

I slashed my way down the lane and as I turned to walk back a hand came up on my shoulder. I acted upon instinct and grabbed the wrist while simultaneously turning around. I heard some mild cracking. I was just about to kick my leg around his to have him fall down when a strong hand prevented me. I've never been this close to blushing before.

"Ow!" He hissed and yanked his hand away.

"Shit! I'm so sorry." Edward winced as he touched his wrist. He frowned at me.

"Do you usually attack random people on the beach?" _If you call that an attack._

"Shouldn't have snuck up on me," I muttered.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Nowhere. What are you doing here?" I started walking again with Edward at my side.

"I was going to surf but there're not really any waves, so…"

"You surf?" I looked up at him.

"A little. Though there's not many opportunities' here."

"No."

"And then I saw you and…"

"And?" He shrugged, seeming uncertain how to phrase whatever's in his mind.

"It's not broken, is it?" I asked after looking down at his unusually still arm.

"Don't worry about it." Edward said and lifted it, seeming unaffected, but I saw the flinch.

"Sorry," I said again. "You really shouldn't surprise people like that."

"Probably shouldn't surprise people with such fast reflexes."

"That too."

"You're freakishly strong for such a tiny person."

"So I've been told."

"I was a little… shocked to see you here." My brows knitted together.

"Why?" He shrugged again.

"I hate that you think a shrug is a viable answer to a question."

"I just thought you had moved on… haven't heard anything in two days."

"You've been asking about me?" He seemed to realize his slip up. I rolled my eyes but bit my lip as not to smirk.

"I had something to do. Someone I needed to see."

"A friend?"

"Not sure yet."

"What does that mean?"

"It was a thing through work-" I cut myself off before I could reveal anything more. But Edward noticed the choice of word.

"Work? What exactly do you do?"

"Uhm…" I said, stalling, trying to think of something, _anything_. But nothing came to mind. "Nothing worth discussing." _Shit Bella. That's the best you could do?_ I felt like bashing my head against a rock.

"I'm sure it's interesting enough."

"Interesting isn't the right word." More like immoral or disgusting. Some religious nuts would probably see it as the devils work. "Where did you learn how to surf?"

"Australia." I looked up, honestly interested. "Stayed there for two months, a while back." His tone changed and I knew better than to keep asking. Luckily, Edward didn't stay quiet for long. "So, what brought this on?" He reached out and delicately grabbed a piece of my hair. His fingers ghosted over my neck as he did so and it'd be a lie if I said my pulse didn't quicken… just for a moment. A small one.

"I just needed a change. It was growing out." Wasn't a lie. He held my hair a second longer – gently dragging his hand down an inch – before letting it drop against my collarbone.

"It's nice," he murmured.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"But I like the black better."

"Me too," I whispered too low for him to hear. He stopped walking and I realized we'd come back to where I'd parked my car – before Jasper "borrowed" it. It wouldn't surprise me if he kept it. I'd have to make a visit to Tyler.

We made our way up – the beach was gathering people and small screaming children. I cringed when a squeal pierced my eardrum at an alarming volume.

"Lovely sound, isn't it?" Edward asked sarcastically. I almost chuckled.

"The best," I replied in the same tone. When we reached his car – he'd gone with the Volvo today. Less conspicuous in such a small town, but I knew he liked driving the Vanquish more – I sat down on a rock, brushed off the sand and put my shoes back on. The lights flickered and the locks clicked on the black sleek car.

"Where's your car?"

"Jasper has it. And it's not my car… yet."

"How are you going to get back?" I shrugged.

"Walk?" Edward shook his head delicately before turning it back to mine.

"I can give you a ride…" I hesitated for just one millisecond but it was enough to earn me a lopsided grin. "Are you afraid of being alone with me?" Did he have to make his voice sound like that? "Or you can walk. It's your choice."

"Fine," I answered with a sigh.

"Fine, as in you'll walk?" I rolled my eyes at him and opened the passenger door.

"Fine, as in I'll let you give me a ride." There's just so many things wrong with that sentence.

The engine purred to life – the most comfortable sound in the world – and Edward backed out skillfully. He settled for a comfortable speed and I wasn't sure if it was for my benefit or if he had a lot to think about. I quickly noticed the road he was going on and was about to ask but he beat me to it.

"I have to get home first. It'll take five minutes tops. It's closer than the motel so…" I nodded, not understanding his need to explain so fully. It's not like I thought he was going to kidnap me or something. I almost laughed at my own thoughts.

"And after you've been home?" My voice came out more inquiring than I had planned but all in all it was a pretty innocent question.

"Seattle," he revealed; his voice too calm. I leaned back further, feeling the car accelerate faster down the road. The trees became a blurry mess outside my window.

"What's happening in Seattle?" I peeked at him and saw he eyes were fixed on the road but not like he was really seeing it. I usually made a similar notion when I needed to think through my answer.

"Just… business." Business?

"Business?" He glanced at me with shrugging shoulders. The image was completely innocent. Too innocent. I don't have a reason not to trust him. So why didn't I?

"So… what do you do?"

"Boring stuff."

"Uhu… what kind of boring stuff?" He sighed heavily.

"Numbers and stuff?" He said with a heavy sigh. Though it sounded more like a question than an answer.

"Numbers?" I asked incredulously with both brows raised.

"Sure…"

"But you flunked algebra."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you told me you flunked algebra."

"When did I do that?"

"Sometime in two-thousand-and-six." He gave me a look. "Eidetic memory, Edward. I don't forget things easily. It's not as fun as some make it out to be."

oOo

He slowed down as the easy-to-miss road appeared to our right and the car trembled from the dirt crumpled earth. Though I've never seen the bushes grow so much you couldn't get by, I've never known anyone to actually trim the driveway.

The garage door opened as we approached and light flickered on as the Volvo descended into the brightly lit basement. The car stopped and we both got out. I saw right away the red convertible was not present. It was hard not to notice. It was almost neon in contrast to the other cars and walls.

"Where's Rosalie?" I asked, not hiding my distaste.

"Why do you hate her so much?"

"She's the one who hates me. I'm merely reciprocating."

"She doesn't hate you." I laughed.

"I beg to differ." We came to the top of the stairs and Edward unlocked the door with a six digit password instead of a key.

The house felt warmer today. The sun peered through the glass wall, illuminating the entire space. My mind started to reel back on memories I didn't want to know since it would never be possible again. My stomach dropped and I had a hard time swallowing.

"I'm just gonna use the bathroom," I said, trying not to make it noticeable that my voice was cracking. I'm not sure I did such a good job.

"The water doesn't work there. You'll have to use the one upstairs." I shrugged and ascended the stairs, feeling nostalgia fill me. I could help but glance to my right, down the hall, noticing the dark door stood ajar. I looked behind me, over the railing. I couldn't see Edward anymore.

I have no idea what came over me. It's as if my mind shut off and my legs moved on their own account. I went away from the bathroom, towards Edward's room. I slowly pushed the door open – turning to listen if he was moving or coming upstairs. I couldn't let him see me here. And yet, I went inside.

It didn't look like it had. Not exactly. The bookcases were the same; stacked against the wall, overflowing with books, movies and music. The stereo was new, smaller; much more expensive. I ran my fingertips over the book spines; going from paperback to hardcover and then back to paperback. I stopped as I reached the vinyls and observed the rest of the room.

The bed was at the same place, unmade. That made me chuckle. But the couch was gone. So was the book case which worked as a room divider. The TV had been brought down and a glass desk took the place with a large Mac occupied half the space. I frowned. How could he use those?

I walked up to it – admitting I snooped a bit. The paper held no interest to me. I opened the top drawer of a small bureau underneath the desk. My bottom lip instantly parted with the top as I graced a picture with my fingertips, barely touching it; fearing it might disintegrate if I did.

I've always been very critical about myself when appearing before a camera. It's never been a strong attribute. But watching myself sitting just a few feet away from my standing point; I can't deny I don't hate it. My hair's damp and the sun's shining. My one leg is curled at the knee – providing comfort for the book in my hands – while the other hung from outside the French doors.

I put the photo back and closed the drawer. This was beyond creepy and a little stalker-ish. I didn't even contemplate why he still had that picture. I don't remember him taking it.

I head a door close downstairs with a thud and I gracefully move down the stairs, making little to no noise. Edward was standing with his back to me and once he'd turned around, he seemed surprised to see me standing there.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a minute. So, are we leaving?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could stay. Lunch. Catch up. You do still eat?"

"I thought you were leaving."

"It's nothing that couldn't be done over the phone."

"I don't know…" I hesitate and can't escape looking out the enormous glass wall towards the brightening day. I needed to get back, to figure out why Aro wanted me to know there could be another organization like Volturi. Why did he want _me_ to know? I wasn't all that special to be privileged with such information.

"You need to eat," Edward reminded me. "And frankly, I have nothing better to do today." I huffed.

"Don't I feel lucky?" But as I was still hesitating, Edward laughed and grabbed the phone.

"It's not like I'm kidnapping you. You can leave right after lunch." One corner of my lips rose in a half smile.

"You're not going to let me go, are you?" I was talking about the situation but with the way his thumb froze over the sixth digit, I knew he thought about something else. "Fine, I'll stay." I forced a small smile and went to look over the movie options as he ordered.

I chuckled as I saw all eight season of Scrubs on the shelves.

"Could you be any bigger of a nerd?" I muttered and skimmed along.

"Like you don't like it as well." I turned my head and found him standing barely five feet away from me.

"Not the point," I defended and grabbed season three. I needed to not be so serious, even if it only lasted one afternoon."

oOo

We were on the third disk and the pizza was gone. I'd really forgotten how relaxed I felt in Edward's presence. I felt comfortable. We sat so close I had my legs thrown into his lap, one curled at the knee.

Edward was laughing at whatever was showing on the screen but I was watching him. I don't know why but I had a sudden urge to be honest with him. Of course I could never tell him the entire truth but I felt as if I needed to share something, anything.

"Los Angeles." He turned his head towards me, cocking it in confusion.

"What?"

"You asked where I've been. Los Angeles."

"For how long?"

"About ten months. Give or take a few weeks."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Honesty. I'm trying it out."

"And how's that going?"

"Not sure yet." He nodded, looking away for a second before meeting my gaze again. There was something new in there. An emotion I couldn't quite place but before I got a chance to think about it some more, it was gone. He touched my knee.

"Thanks for being honest."

"Sure." I looked back at the screen but felt that he was still watching me. I tried to ignore it but when my pulse picked up, my hands started getting warm and I was a moment away from squirming, I turned back to him with a raised brow.

"Yes?"

"Why L.A.?"

"I like the weather." I turned back, not liking where this was going.

"You hate the sun."

"I don't hate the sun. Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"You hate large crowds."

"People can change, you know."

"You're too stubborn to change."

"And how would you know?"

"Because I know you. Whether you like it or not."

"I'm not the same." He didn't respond. But he shifted, pausing the DVD and turning his entire body towards me. I leaned back against the armrest, trying to understand what he was doing. I tried to move my legs away but he held them in place. And then I knew.

"What are you doing?" I'm almost embarrassed to say that my voice was slightly shaking. I swallowed and inhaled too sharp when he started to lean forward. I could have moved. I could have forced him off me. I could have shoved him, kicked him, even punched him and then left but I let him lean so close I felt and smelled his breath against my face. Sometimes I really hate myself.

"You should stop," I whispered, bracing the length of my arms against the armrest behind my back, leaning away but not enough.

"And if I don't?" He murmured, his left hand hovering over my chin, one finger extending and ghosting over my skin and down my neck. My eyes closed for a second and when they reopened, he was staring right at me. Not in a creepy way, more in an exploratory one.

"It's not a good idea," I replied but feeling my control slipping. I didn't want him to stop. But this couldn't happen. It never was just one night with Edward. One led to two and two led to three and so on. You want to be around him and if it'd happened once… "Please stop," I whispered but we both knew I didn't mean it.

"I just need to check something," he murmured before placing his lips over mine.

It was soft, faint. Barely a kiss but it was enough. When his lips came off mine, they ghosted over my skin to my ear.

"You're wrong." My eyes closed, not caring anymore.

"About what?"

"You're the same," he murmured, pressing his lips underneath my ear, the soft skin felt increasingly warmer. "You smell the same," he inhaled my skin. "You sound the same." His hand went from my face and dragged down my chest and ribs before slipping underneath my t-shirt, rubbing the skin gently. I sighed in content. "You taste the same." Edward's face came up and he pressed his lips back to mine. I didn't protest this time.

Edward hand left my skin, traveled down the length of my leg before cupping my calf and hooking it over his hip. I moaned and grabbed at his hair, trying to get him closer. He didn't seem to mind and rested most of his frame against mine.

With the groping and heavy make-out, it was no secret to either of us where this was going to lead to. My shirt was halfway off my frame when something vibrated in my pocket. We both jumped at the motion but Edward continued to kiss me, determined to ignore whoever calling.

I clawed at my pocket before the phone was released and I pushed busy without looking at the screen. It fell to the floor and not three seconds later did it ring again. I groaned and when Edward mouth left me to pick it up, I sighed in frustration, my back plopping back on the soft cotton.

When the screen came in views, I immediately recognized the number and yanked the phone from him. I pushed busy again and turned it off. But Edward was off me now. He was sitting at the other side of the couch; an unreadable expression filled his features.

"Persistent caller," he muttered; his voice harder than before.

"It's just work," I smoothed while trying to understand his new demeanor. He looked almost mad.

"Work you don't even want to talk about." I looked away, putting the phone back in my pocket. I couldn't stay here anymore. I had to get away.

"I'll leave," I said and grabbed my jacket, not bothering to put it back on before I rushed out the front door.


	9. Frozen

_**Frozen **_

As I emerged from the dirt path and watched down the long paved road, I sighed in annoyance. I clearly should have thought this through before barging away and not "borrowing" a car in the process.

Why the fuck would he say that? I'm not the same! How can he even think it?

I ran a hand through my hair and grabbed it while closing my eyes, willing the fury to simmer down but it didn't help. I was still boiling when I stomped my way down the road, trying to forget the same words I'd used with him, a very long time ago.

oOo

It was raining by the time I got to the car rental. Tyler was sitting with his feat up against the counter. The fluorescent lights hurt my eyes and when he saw me, he closed the magazine and threw it away. I didn't even have the patience to make fun of him for _reading_ porn at work.

"Hey. Giving back the car so soon?" He asked while getting up. I pushed the hair away from my face, catching a glimpse of myself in the window. My cheeks were red; my eyes were wide with prominent purple shadows beneath. I ignored the sight and turned back to Tyler.

"Not really. How much to buy it?" He must have thought I was joking because he kept giving me the strangest look."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I want to buy it. The car. How much?"

"Uh… Bella, it's a rental."

"Yeah. I'm aware. But how much to buy it?"

"We don't really-"

"Name a price."

"I- Are you serious?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Tyler didn't respond but picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Yeah. Listen, there's this customer here, wanting to buy the Audi R8… I know, but she wants to buy it… Yeah. Okay." He put the phone to his shoulder.

"He says five-hundred." I raised a brow and nodded, like I hadn't been serious before. People were so touchy when it came to money. Especially guys.

"She says fine... Okay." Tyler hung up and looked at the unfamiliar card and then at me.

"You sure about this?" I sighed.

"Positive." He looked back at the card.

"It's not going to bounce, if that's what you think." He snapped out of it and pulled it though the machine. He seemed shocked when the deal went through. I signed the receipt and different papers and when I turned to leave, Tyler hesitantly spoke to me.

"You're not working for the mob, are you?" I snorted and turned back to him, my eyes clearly amused. Close… but not close enough.

"No, Ty." I'm not sure whether he believed me or not but he didn't bring it up again.

"So listen…" I leaned one elbow against the class counter.

"Yeah?"

"So there's this party, tonight."

"Sure."

"I'm just wondering if you might want to check it out. If you haven't gone completely boring since we last hung out." I smirked a little. Excellent timing.

"When and where?"

oOo

Tyler agreed to pick me up after his shift ended, four hours later. I trudged my way back to the motel, my clothes already soaked completely through. When I got inside, I was shivering so hard my teeth didn't have the energy to clap together. I shed my clothes and yanked on shorts and went for a run.

I liked the feeling of pushing myself through the slowing drizzle. I kicked my feet faster but no matter how fast I drove myself, I couldn't get the last two or three hours out of my head. Nothing made any sense anymore. And I had been so stupid. So careless. Why did I let him kiss me? Why would I do that? Beyond the obvious reason. I'm leaving in little over a week. It's not like I can stay around. Then what? We'd long-distance? I'm not a relationship person. He knows that. But he's not a one-night-stand either. Not after having known each other for almost a decade.

Fuck, I'm so stupid! I don't think! I have no filter between reality and fiction!

Sometimes I really loath myself.

When I got back to the motel, I was shaking so hard, I contracted a headache. Whether the shaking was from the rain or past memories, I didn't know. But I needed to shower before Tyler picked me up. Sweat was not an attractive feature.

I dumped my clothes in the chair by the small table. I turned on the shower and let the steam fill the room. I pulled my hair out from the bun and let it fall against my skin. I hated it. I hated the length, I hated the straightness and I hated the color. I'd never felt this angry before about my hair. It was such an irrational feeling but I almost started to sob as I looked at the silken strands.

This is the old me. But that person didn't exist anymore. She died a long time ago and so did this image. I liked the new me. I like wearing too much eyeliner and that my hair contrasted with my complexion. I barely minded the subtle vampire jokes anymore. At least it was the one thing I could control; have as my own. And now I didn't have that anymore. So who the fuck was I? Nobody. That's who. I am just a girl who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The Volturi could take my life from me. They could even force me to do things I – in a sane place of mind – would shudder over. They could take my family away. But I had one thing. And that was my appearance. People knew not to get to close. I always emanated a clear shield of hatred at everyone and everything. They just didn't know why they should stay away. But yet they looked. Most men stared at the empty space I inhabited five minutes after I left the room. Or at least that's what Emmett always teased me about.

I knew I was attractive. And I knew how to use it to my advantage. People were always so blinded when a young and seemingly fragile little _girl_ entered their line of vision. I knew most seemed to think they needed to protect me. But they all had it backwards; it's they who need the protection. I've taken care of myself for a long time. I'm quite good at it. No one seems to understand that. And now I look like the same fragile little bitch I once was and I hated it. I hated the feeling and I hated the fact that I had to look myself in the mirror and be reminded of everything and everyone I had to give up. As soon as I was back in L.A. I'm changing it back, probably going darker than before.

The mirror fogged up and it brought me back to the pressing issue at hand. I left the sink and pushed into the steaming water. It wasn't any worse than having my face pressed into a tub of ice.

I shampooed and conditioned fast and then got out, not lingering like I normally did. I wrapped a small towel around my frame and went back into the bedroom; throwing my bag onto the bed and rummaging through it for some decent clothes.

I managed to find a decent-looking black tube top. But as I bent to pull my dark jeans over my legs, I caught a glimpse of my back in the mirror next to the mini fridge. Faint scars marred the upper part of my back and I knew similar ones dominated lower as well. The sight made me frown and I dug through my bag for a black pleather jacket and a pair of grey converse.

I skillfully painted black eyeliner just below my eyes and just above the eyelashes. I brushed on mascara and just a hint of dark brown eye shadow. I may be attractive in the simple terms but once I actually give a shit, I could have most boys' do almost anything.

I shook the last pieces of water out from my hair then there was a knock on the door. I grabbed my phone before opening, not showing Tyler anything he shouldn't. He almost seemed surprised when I answered.

"You live here?"

"Only for another week," I answered and sat down in his rusty Ford sedan.

"Why? You're obviously rich. Why live in a dump like this?" I shrugged, not in the mood to give him my life's story.

"So where's this party?" I asked to change the subject.

"It's not far. It's just in the outskirts of town. In the woods."

"Are you taking me to a rave?" I'll have to admit, the petty inhabitants of Forks at a rave was something I would pay to witness.

"No. Duke's home from Duke and he always throws a party when he gets home."

"Wait. Duke goes to Duke? Well that's mildly pathetic." Tyler laughed.

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"Why not?"

"Duke doesn't have the best track record when it comes to control. I've heard he once punched a guy for being lab partner with his girlfriend." I once shoved a pencil into a guy's thigh because he smirked at me. In my defense, it was a very leering smirk. The dude could have been an axe murderer. I was really doing the world a favor. The ironic part is that this happened before I even knew what or who the Volturi was.

oOo

This is so sad. This scene. It's just pathetic. I thought it was forbidden to party like you were in high school when you were all "grown up" and attending the average college that was never on your list but since mommy and daddy are paying, it would have to do.

There was a huge campfire in the middle of a clearing. The sky was dark, the trees illuminating, but I saw through the illusion and anyone could easily be standing just behind the bark and no one would ever notice.

A truck had been driven up, the rear sticking out towards the fire with a huge stereo and about a thousand bottles, raking from Smirnoff to Bacardi to Absolute.

As Tyler went to get us drinks, I quickly surveyed the space, looking for possible threats and escape routes. Though I didn't need the latter. I lived here for eighteen years. I know my way around the woods in the area. But with the sight of regular people, smoking anything they could roll, drink whatever was in the plastic cups and laugh like there was no tomorrow, I had a strange feeling of longing. Not necessarily to be one of them but to feel free to do whatever the fuck I wanted. That I didn't have to report back and feel hesitant about having more than two shots.

But then I think how sad this picture is. That these people need pot and alcohol to feel something; to mingle amongst themselves. And truth be told, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel. About anything. One side of my brain says it's okay to have fun once in a while. That's the sane part. Then there's the other one who says I can't screw up. That either I'd be killed – but maybe I could be okay with that – or someone I cared about was. That, I couldn't handle. I'm not sure the Volturi would stoop to that but they did kill the PI for finding me. Who's to say they won't turn up in Forks next week and go on a killing spree?

"Here you go." I gripped the blue plastic cup that Tyler offered me, my previous thoughts gone as I tasted the cheap beer. "Come, walk with me." Tyler started walking, grabbing a bottle with a clear liquid sloshing inside. I followed, emptying the beer onto the ground and then dropping the cup.

We didn't walk too far. A few trees down the path Tyler stopped and took a swig of his bottle. I noticed the label and knew he wasn't staying sober for much longer.

"So tell me something," he said, leaning against a tree trunk. I crossed my arms and leaned on one leg.

"Okay."

"We were pretty good in high school, were we not?" I huffed quietly and wet my lips before answering. This would not going the way he thought.

"We weren't anything in high school, Ty." He took a sip.

"Oh no? Then why did you want it almost every day?" Cocky much? It's not like he's that impressive. I suppressed a sigh.

"I was bored."

"Bored?" He snorted. Guys might be terrified of clingy girls but that also worked the other way around. Tyler just couldn't get the fact that I wasn't that into him.

"Not to ruin your little fantasy or anything but I really wasn't that into you." Tyler took another hit and watched me for a moment before pushing away from the tree. I was not at all prepared for what he did next. I really didn't think he would. But the next second, his lips crashed against mine.

He started moving his lips, forcing his tongue down my throat. And strangely enough, I let him. I kissed him back, gripping the back of his neck and everything. He tasted like alcohol and gum. Not an awful combination but not the most attractive either.

But as my back made hard impact with the tree, I was brought back to reality and I forced my mouth away from his. I pushed him back, holding him at arms lengths. I leaned against the bark, trying to clear my head with too damp air.

"What is it?" He asked, not in concern but like he thought he still had a shot at getting laid. I so fucking hated Edward right now. Seething rage filled me and I answered harder than I intended.

"I can't do this."

"Why not? It could be like old times." He smirked, eyes hooded from the booze. I pushed at his chest, trying to push him off but not break his ribcage.

"Sorry, Ty." I turned to leave but he grabbed my arm.

"Is it because of him?" I froze, my heart beating faster. I composed my expression before looking him straight in the eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"I know you like him. At least you did."

"I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Masen. I mean, since you two were so into each other, I just figured…"

"You're drunk and you don't know what you're saying-"

"I saw you. Graduation party. Ring any bells, Bells?" It did. But I didn't let it show on my face. This is what the Volturi has been training me for. At least now I got to show it off.

"Actually it doesn't. I never went."

"Bullshit. I saw you at the beach."

"I don't know what to tell you Ty. I was never there. Though it's not like it matters anymore, that was three years ago. And he graduated two years before us. Why would he be there?"

"Why can't you admit it? It's not _that_ big a deal or… aah," he inhaled. "I get it. It's because of Jasper, isn't it? They were – are – best friends and I don't doubt he would have killed Masen for screwing his little sister." I stayed frozen, trying not to let the fury show on my face.

"You don't know shit, got it?"

"I'm getting to you, aren't I?" I yanked my arm from his reach, taking a step back, not trusting my actions at the moment. He didn't understand and he never would.

"If I were you, I'd stop talking right about now," I warned, feeling further enraged. But Tyler laughed, taking another swig. I looked at the bottle before returning his gaze.

"I get it, you know? He's gorgeous."

"Wow, Ty. I didn't think you'd notice," I mocked. He gave me a death glare but ignored my statement.

"He had – _has_ – every girl in town throwing themselves at him. I just thought you'd be different. Have more self-respect." I clenched my hand. "That you wouldn't let him use you like a quick fuck-" I really can't say what happened next. One second, Tyler was lecturing me and the next he was sitting on the ground, gasping for hair while holding his neck. My knuckles burned with warmth but it was by no means painful. Tyler looked up at me; fear latched in his eyes.

"Wha-" I grabbed his hair, pulled him up and pushed him into the tree, hard. The air left his lungs.

"Don't pretend like you know my whole life's story," I seethed at him. "I'm not the same person I was tree years ago, Ty." I kneed him in the diaphragm and he went down on all fours with a groan.

"I'm not the same," I grumbled before slouching down, getting in closer.

"And by the way," I leaned in close and continued in a whisper, "he didn't use me. I used him." And then I knocked him out with a kick to the face. He'd have a real hangover tomorrow. And a broken nose. With no recollection of how he got to be that way.

oOo

I actually took a cab back to the motel. My fingertips were still buzzing with the last hit of adrenaline. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, feeling the energy fill me up, making me almost breathless. As the cab stopped, my eyes snapped open. I threw bills into the passenger seat before hopping out, waiting for the car to drive away before getting inside.

The lock jammed on me again and I had to push my shoulder into it to get it open. It stung for a second but then the feeling was gone. Sometimes I kind of liked how I've become. And then I usually remember _how_ and I start to loathe again.

The room was dark and I must have missed the table when I threw my jacket its way. The clang of zipper meets fake wood never came but I didn't pay much attention anymore since I knew, from standing just inside the door, that I was not alone.

The way you see it I movies, the girl hears the intruder's rapid breathing, giving away either a psychotic serial killer or a wanted pervert. But I didn't hear breathing. I saw movement. Though it was dark, no one normal would have noticed the fine line between darkness and a human body. But I did. The room was different too. My things had been moved. I remember how it looked when I left and this wasn't it.

It took all of five seconds for me to rummage through this and when I turned my head to the right, it was too late.

He moved fast. I knew it was a guy because when he slammed my back into the wall, I saw the outline of his face. My eyes had had time to get used to the dark by now. Following impact, I had the wind knocked out of me and I struggled to get a grip.

I elbowed his left arm away and raised my knee, trying to knock it into his ribs but he dodged my move, as if he had known what I was going to do. I punched my right hand forwards but he caught that too, along with my hand and then yanked it forward, making me fly to the bed. It groaned in protest to the weight and when I saw him come closer, I kicked both my feet at him; hitting square in the chest. He went flying into the wall and I was back on my feet within seconds, kicking my foot high, hitting him in the temple. He caught my foot as it was going down and twisted it, making sometime crack. I barely suppressed a whimper and as I tried to get my limb back, he pushed it away and then slammed his hand to my neck, holding it in place. Then we both went into the wall. I caught a grip on him too.

Neither one of us was backing down – it was almost like fighting myself – and after a punch and kick to his diaphragm, he was so close, I heard his rapid breathing and felt the breath wash over my face. The realization was like a punch to the stomach.

"What?" I whispered breathlessly, my grip weakening. I didn't understand.

But when his grip grew stronger, I got pissed and with a forceful knock of my elbow to his face – I heard something crack so it must have been the nose – I raised my left foot and put all my force into it and kicked him across the room. He fell on top of the bed, the springs making a loud noise.

I just stood there by the wall, pressing myself to it as if I'd disappear and become one with it. I wanted to disappear. I felt across the wall and found the switch. The room flooded with light and I couldn't stop staring at him. He clutched his nose but made no attempt to look at me.

"What the fuck are you doing?" My voice pierced the empty room like a shrill. He finally looked up – the dark and hollow irises sent shivers down my spine and somehow, without having him say it; I knew why he was here. "How do you know?" My tone was hard and flat. He never broke eye contact and he never said anything. I clenched my hand.

"Who told you?" He continued to look down. I saw a few droplets of blood in between his fingers. Was it broken? Either way, it looked painful. Good.

"Who told you?" I was standing right in front of him now. My fist ached and I was so close to punching him again that if he hadn't looked up, I would have.

"No one told me."

"Bullshit! Who told you?"

"No one told me!" He glared and removed his hand. The blood was dripping more freely now. I almost smirked. But I was too pissed to care.

"Then how do you know?" Instead of answering, he stood up, brushed past me and went to get a towel. He dried off most of the blood. No distinctive marks appeared underneath his eyes. So I hadn't broken it. Too bad.

"Why are you here?" He finished cleaning and turned back towards me.

"I wasn't sure."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You move just like them." I stopped and stared at him. "I saw it from the start but the thought was ridiculous. So precise. So calculating. You even talk like them." My breathing turned shallow and I had a hard time making my head stay clear to listen to him.

"You're so cold, distant… and vague. I should have realized… I've been trained to know better. It all fits. But you know how I put it all together?" I didn't respond. Though I don't think he expected an answer. "The phone number. I saw it on the screen. I tried to tell myself it wasn't the same one but of course it was. I'm such a fool." He took a step closer and I took one back. He stopped and cocked his head to the side, watched my feet and then my face. Then he snickered.

"You can't actually be afraid of me, can you?" He rolled his eyes. "Are they down-cutting the program? Maybe you haven't been there long enough to know that you're not supposed to be afraid of anything. Or feel anything, for that matter. In general, you're puppets, waiting for the string to pull."

"Shut up," I whispered harshly. The corner of his lips twitched.

"Why? It's true, isn't it? You're all empty vessels, ready to be filled with their thoughts and orders."

"Shut up."

"If you think about it, none of you are human. You can't even think for yourselves."

"Shut the fuck up!" I came towards him fast, my hand clenched and ready to punch but he caught my move, my hand and twisted it behind my back and pinned my front to the wall. I hissed.

"Unfortunately for you, I've had years of practice." I pushed back and he let go, backing towards the bed and sat down, resting his back against the headboard. I glanced at the door, wondering if I could get out. He saw it.

"Go ahead. It's not like you can outrun me and didn't Jazz borrow your car? How do you plan to get away? The buss?" I bared my teeth before snorting in fury. Edward gazed upon me with almost sad eyes and then diverted towards the window.

"Why?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant.

"Why does it matter?" I responded in a similar tone. He turned my way and shrugged.

"Simple curiosity, I guess." I narrowed my eyes.

"Who wrote it?" I jerked my yaw towards the table. Edward's gaze went to his left and then back to me.

"Why does it matter?" I clenched my fist.

"I want to know."

"Why?" I growled low. "Getting mad now? Besides, it doesn't matter, really. Aro's going to tell you, in due time."

"How do you know about Aro?" He didn't answer. And that's when it clicked. I don't know how I knew it and I don't know why I even had this one-in-a-million thought, but I did. C industries. It stood for Cullen industries. It's a family name. Edward dad change to his mother's maiden name; Masen. That's why he knows so much.

"It's your great-grandfather who wrote that, isn't it?" The corner of his lips twitched. "What about the articles? Is it-"

"The Volturi? No."

"Then who? And why lie about it? Why let someone else take the credit?"

"Exposure."

"What?"

"They can't exist if people know about them," he whispered but I heard it.

"And the diary?"

"Same reason." He stared me straight in the eyes and I couldn't look away.

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of question."

"It's usually how I get answers."

"But what about after you get answers?"

"What about it?"

"What do you do with the new information?" I stopped short. He knew what I was going to say.

"Right. He's going to tell you either way." I shook my head and put a hand to my forehead.

"This is not happening," I whispered, willing the last twenty minutes to go back and for me to just let Tyler have his way with me in the woods. It would bring a farm more promised future than after this night.

"Goodnight Bella," Edward said and disappeared out the door and I was left standing with gaping mouth, trying to make myself believe I had imagined all of it. That there'd been something in my drink. But my discarded room said otherwise.


	10. I'm only happy when it rains

_**AN: I do beg forgiveness for this highly overdue update. I really thought I would have it together by the end of the year but alas, no such thing happened. It is incredibly frustrating when you know the story but don't have any words for it. Good or bad, here it is, though I hope it won't diminish your expectations' for the remainder of the story. You never know… even Bones have had an off episode. Not that I'm comparing myself to a drama TV show I'm just… ah shit… just read… **_

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_**I'm only happy when it rains **_

_It was at a party at La Push beach. One of many thrown by Forks high school. Pathetic, I know, but what else is there to do in a small town such as this one? _

_I, on the other hand, was not attending. Technically. Not that I didn't like to party – I did – but drinking cranberry punch and dancing to pop music, really wasn't my thing. Instead I practically hid at the beach, trying to make time move faster in my regular torn-up dark jeans, simple tank top and an elbow sleeved jacket. _

_I stared at the gentle waves licking the base of the beach before almost touching the larger rocks. I love the water. From above, it looks so peaceful but once inside, there's a whole different world lurking in silent chaos. Fascinating. _

_The music blasted over the empty space and I rolled my eyes as I heard and saw giggling freshmen girls, clinging to their significant other while trying to walk across rocks to a more private setting. _

_The school had rented this enormous house just above the water and the only reason I'm so close to the whole PG rated ordeal is because I couldn't stand the look my mother used to get whenever I would skip out on school events. I guess I can't blame her. My mom was very high spirited in her high school days. She was a cheerleader and prom queen. She got elected student-body president all four years and in every single one of her yearbook pictures, she is smiling a wide "golden" smile, most of them with my father at her side. _

_But that life wasn't for me. I got good grades… whenever I cared enough to study. She should have been happy with that and not push me towards something I despise so much. _

_I grimaced at the hard nature of the log I was sitting on and slid down so my back was leaning against it instead. I sighed and checked my phone; not ten minutes had passed since I looked at it last. _

"_Hey," a soft voice came from behind me. I turned and saw Edward tread across the sand towards me. _

"_Hey yourself," I responded and watch him sit down next to me. _

"_Why aren't you up there?" He motioned towards the light-up house. _

"_I can think of better ways to spend my time." _

"_Like sitting alone on the beach?" _

"_It seems so sad when you say it like that." _

"_Sorry." _

_We sit there in silence until a crash came from the house and I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling. _

"_Why aren't you up there? They kick you out or something?" He chuckled. _

"_Not really. So why are you even here?" I raised a brow at him. He instantly looked wary. "I didn't mean-" but I held up a hand to silence him. _

"_Save it. It's mostly to please my mother's mental state. She thinks I'm turning into a loner." _

"_Too late for that isn't it?" I smirked and bit my lip. We were silent for several moments before I broke the peace. _

"_What are you planning on doing now?" I brought my knees closer and encircled them with my arms, turning my head to look at him better. Edward had been taking a two-year sabbatical. I was surprised they let him keep his trust fund. _

"_Not sure. Carlisle wants me to start working for him." _

"_Where?" He hesitated. _

"_Cullen Industries. It's kind of a family business, dating back a few hundred years. The job title isn't important. It's boring with lots of number." Didn't he fail algebra? _

"_I'm sensing that's not something you want." _

"_Perceptive. It's not that I don't want to it's just…" I waited for him to continue but he fell silent. _

"_What?" _

"_Complicated," he said with a sigh _

"_Still no college?" But he just sat there, quietly looking straight ahead. _

"_That's even more complicated." I nodded. "What about you? I'm sure you got into any school you chose." _

"_Doesn't matter. I'm not planning on attending either way." _

"_I'm sure you parents love that." _

"_They pretend I've never said such a thing. In their minds I'm going to Harvard or Yale or something equally Ivy League." _

"_Makes you feel trapped doesn't it?" I nodded, flexing my legs and crossing them beneath me. I could feel him watching me but I didn't return his gaze. I traced shapes in the sand, feeling the softness beneath my fingertips. _

"_Shouldn't you be getting back?" Not that I wanted him to leave. But I enjoyed his company far too much. He was one of my brother's best friends. It would be so inappropriate, wrong and bad. So very, very bad. Though it's not like I haven't thought about it. Come on. The guy's a living and breathing Greek God. Who wouldn't think about it? _

"_I'd rather stay here," he murmurs and I stiffen as his hand comes up and brings my hair behind my ear. His fingertip traced down my jaw before falling to his side. _

"_You're drunk," I say to which he simply chuckles. _

"_Hardly." _

"_Why are you here?" I ask again, much harsher this time. I see through my peripheral vision how he leans back on his hands and studies me for a long time before responding. _

"_Maybe I like your company." I huff silently. _

"_Don't." _

"_Why not?" I turn and look him directly in the eyes. _

"_You know why." Edward sighs and rolls his eyes. But I shake my head. "Why do you even bother? Seriously." But he doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. He simply stares at me, as if he can see right through me. I turn away, finding it hard to breathe. _

"_Stop it," I whisper. _

"_Stop what? I'm not doing anything." _

"_Yes you are." He takes a breath. _

"_Do you want me to leave?" I open and close my mouth many times but no words escape me. _

"_No," I reveal ultimately. Even though I know he heard me, he still acts differently. _

"_What was that?" I sigh heavily and turn my whole body towards him, resting my elbow on the log with my head in my hand. _

"_I said; no. I don't want you to leave." My confidence returned. "I should… You're- well you're you." He smirked. _

"_Excuse me?" _

"_You're off limits." _

"_Is that your rule?" _

"_It's more like common sense. You're my brother's best friend." _

"_So?" _

"_So nothing good can come from hooking up with you." _

"_So it wouldn't be good?" I knew he was just joking and/or teasing but I couldn't help but answer. _

"_Oh it'd be excellent. But it would also be like eating a whole box of chocolate. You know you'll regret it in the morning." _

"_And if we didn't just hook up?" I huffed in ridiculousness. I wasn't without a boyfriend because I couldn't find one. Relationships were doomed before even starting. It's not in the animal nature to be with one person for a longer period of time. It's unnatural. "Don't pretend like you haven't thought about it." I don't answer. _

"_Are you going to ignore me?" I felt and heard him slide closer till our shoulders were touching. "How about now?" I still say nothing. "Why won't you talk to me?" He murmurs into my ear, tracing the curve of my neck with his finger, causing Goosebumps to appear on my arms. _

"_What do you want me to say?" I ask softly. His lips ghost over the shell of my ear. Before I could even start to think about what I was going to do next, I turned my head, causing my lips to cover his. _

_There is one second of hesitation before Edward grabs a hold my hair at the back of my neck and pressed against me harder. Not that I'm complaining. I start moving my lips in sync with his and I couldn't help but moan as out tongues touch and start to battle. _

_But unfortunately, it doesn't go much further than that. As I unconsciously have one leg thrown over both of his, half straddling him, he's about to grab my waist to get me closer and that's when the shrill of my phone breaks us apart. _

_We're both panting hard, our faces inches away from each other. I yank at my pocket, wanting to know which dickhead is interrupting. _

"_Hello?" _

"_Where are you? I'm leaving. Do you need a ride home?" Jasper. Just the sound of his voice makes me feel guilty. _

"_I'll be right there." _

"_Gotta go," I say and rise quickly, knowing he could keep me here by asking and that wouldn't be such a good idea. _

"_What… now?" Edward asks incredulously. _

"_Yep." But as I cross the log he grabs a hold of my wrist, making me look at him. _

"_Can I see you later?" _

"_It's barely past midnight." _

"_So tomorrow?" _

"_No," I say but my voice isn't strong. "I have to go." Except he grips my wrist even tighter, but not so much that it hurts. _

"_Please?" I hesitate. We've already made out, how much more could I fuck up my life? _

"_Fine." _

"_Really?" _

"_Yes. Now let me go…" his grip on my wrist loosens and I pull it away from his hand slowly and then turn away, trying to ignore that my heartbeat is pumping irregularly. _

oOo

"How's your dinner Bella. You've barely touched it." Charlie's deep and concerned voice break me out of my silent a subtle musings.

"Its fine," I grumbled; my answers becoming even more mechanical and automatic. I hadn't called Aro yet. I didn't know whether or not I should. What would happen? Aro would do… what? The mere thought seemed too ridiculous that I barely entertained it but would he… would he actually kill him?

I wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. This whole thing felt like a joke. Just a game; completely on my account. Edward knew more that he let on, definitely. Aro basically knew everything and yet he never mentioned – since I know he's done a clearly thorough background check on me, on everyone – that one of my childhood friends are aware the Volturi exists.

I was getting a headache. My eyes shifted downward and I let the fork hit the plate. I wasn't up for pretending anymore.

"Are you feeling alright?" Charlie asked for the fiftieth time that evening.

"Peachy," I replied with subtle sarcasm. "I'm just not hungry." Jasper, ever the clueless one, was sitting by my site, munching away without a care. I envied his buried optimism and deftly ignorance.

I sometimes – at weak moments – entertained the idea of telling him everything. I'd always been able to confide in him before. I knew I could trust him to keep it quiet. But it would have been a selfish act on my part. It wouldn't be just to confide. I would tell because I wanted someone else to share my burden. Or maybe I wanted someone to lie to me and tell me everything would be okay. Right now a lie sounds almost too good to pass up on.

"You know… Jasper told me about the hotel." I shot a venomous glance at my brother who now seemed particularly interested in his food. Traitor.

"So?" I replied with little interest.

"I don't want you living there." I rolled my eyes this time. "It's not a good place."

"It's as good as any, dad." Charlie looked offended.

"You mean its better there than live with your own father?"

"Oh my god," I sighed inaudibly while leaning back in my chair. "You know I don't mean it like that."

"Then you can make it up to me to live here for the remained of your visit." I opened my mouth to speak but Jasper beat me to it."

"It's not a bad idea Bells."

"And where did you get air from?" I shot his way. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll drive you there later to get your stuff."

"With _my_ car?"

"_Yours_? You bought it?"

"Didn't I tell you that?"

"No you failed to mention that."

"Well I'm telling you now."

"Kids!" We both shut up and started clearing the table.

oOo

"You really bought it?" Jazz asked as _I_ drove to the motel.

"I really did," I said absentmindedly.

"With what money?" I blinked and kept my gaze straight forward.

"My own," was my answer. Excellent Bella. Like he isn't suspicious enough.

"Good. I was afraid you'd stolen it," Jasper replied sarcastically but with a serious undertone.

"It was one time. Will you ever let it go?"

"When your sister steals a car, it's not something that goes unnoticed."

"I didn't say that. I just– can we not do this?" I looked at him. He nodded after a few seconds. We drove for a few minutes in silence before Jazz started pushing it again.

"So where'd you get the money?"

"We still on that?"

"Just answer the question Bella."

"I worked for it, okay?" I wasn't a lie.

"Doing what? Flipping burgers at McDonalds? Do you know what this car is worth?"

"Yes. I was there when I paid for it."

"Why can't you just tell me the truth?"

"Why can't you just let it go?"

"What's the big deal?"

"Exactly," I said in a cut off tone. Jasper sighed and turned his head to look out the window. After another few minutes, he spoke again.

"How's it like in California?" I almost choked on air.

"How do you know that?" He stared at me for a few seconds with confusion.

"Your phone number. It's a Californian area code."

"Oh." Fucking excellent Bella! Way to ruin his suspicions. "It's okay."

"Just okay?" I shrugged.

"It's okay for now." I looked at him. He was still staring out the window. "You know where mom used to take us on vacation? Near Venice?" He nodded. "My apartment isn't far from there. Pretty decent view."

"Aren't those really expensive?" I sighed.

"What's with you and money? I do fine Jazz. You don't have to worry. Promise." Both a lie and the truth, all wrapped up in one disturbing ball.

"I'll always worry Bells. Tell me something else."

"Okay… I just got a new TV, DVD and the whole ordeal."

"And you managed to plug it all in?" I reached over and punched his arm.

"Technically… Emmett was having way too much fun so I let him do it."

"Who's Emmett?"

"A friend." Jazz raised a brow.

"Just a friend?"

"Yes _dad_. Just a friend. We work together. You know… flipping burgers at McDonalds." That provoked a laugh out of him. "That's pretty much it. My life's not that exciting."

"Then why has it gone three years before we got to see you again?"

"It's complicated," I sighed while pulling up to the motel. "We're here." I left the keys in the ignition and stepped inside, shoving all my clothes and stuff into the duffle bag. The yellow envelope on the table I put at the bottom of the bag.

"This is worse than I thought." I heard Jazz say from the doorway. My eyes went to the middle of the bed where I knew the gun was still lying gently beneath the white cotton sheets. I glanced back at jazz.

"It wasn't so bad. Except the bed. That's horrible."

"Are you set?" He asked while leaning against the door. I glanced quickly towards the sheets before chugging the key across the room.

"Go check out. I'm almost done." Jasper stood there for another five seconds before pushing back and walking to the main office. I grabbed for the gun and shoved it into the bag and left the room quickly. I put it in the trunk and got into the driver's seat. I waited for Jaspers return which took longer than I anticipated but as I leaned back to relax, my cell phone went off and the shrill made me jump.

"What?" I answered too angrily.

"Is this a bad time Isabella?"

"Aro. I wasn't expecting you."

"So I noticed. I would like an update on the documents Jenkins had for you." My palms started to sweat. I saw Jazz get out of the office.

"Now is not the best time," I hushed. "Can I call you later? Or maybe in the morning."

"Alright. But I expect you to be thorough." Jazz opened the door and came inside, shrugging at the night weather.

"Of course," I said, overly aware my brother was sitting right next to me as I was talking to my boss who gave me missions which sometimes turned fatal. "I'll be in touch." I hung up before he had a chance to say anything else. I would get shit for that later.

"Who was that?"

"No one. Where do you want me to drop you off?"

"Home."

"Ah… and where is that?"

Just outside of town I stopped the car to let Jasper out.

"Are you going straight to dad's or?"

"Probably. You don't need to check up on me. I'll call you later. I promise."

"I've heard that before."

"But this time I mean it," I said with a huge smile. He shut the door with too much force.

"Don't drive off the road!" He yelled.

"I don't drive that fast!" I yelled and drove off so fast there were probably kid marks on the road.

oOo

The air was soft but moist. The rain had stayed away the night but I knew it wouldn't be gone for long. This was Forks after all. After the demonstration of how cautiously I drive outside Jazz's house, I slowed down marginally and rested my left elbow against the window, pulling at strands of my hair.

I was torn between going straight to my father's house to talk to Aro and possibly sending off alert signals all over Volturi. Or I could just not… maybe make up a lame story of how my father wanted to spend quality time with me or some shit like that and then go for a little fun ride and find out just how much Edward knew about my _job_. It was an unpleasant thought but I wasn't comfortable speaking to Aro before having this talk. I desperately wanted last night to have been a nightmare and that I had gotten drunk and passed out. Though considering I didn't technically drink anymore, it was highly unlikely.

Driving down the lonely road, I stop short of the turn. I leave the car idling as I ponder where to hide the vehicle. I knew the road well. A mile back there was a camper's stop or however you'd like to put it. It wasn't a big patch but this was a small car, I felt comfortable placing it there, knowing you never took that road getting away from the forest. Only tourists did that.

After turning the ignition, the engine died and I was left in complete darkness and quietness. It's not that I was afraid of the dark. It would be stupid to fear something simply because you couldn't see it well. It just made me slightly uncomfortable not being able to see anything. There's nothing wrong with that.

Staying off the road, I knew of a trail within the forest. It was thin and I missed it a few times, straying off when I wasn't paying close attention. Exhibit a; I grabbed a branch to help myself cross a dismembered log and letting go proved to be easier said than done. I ended up dragging my palm across the bark, ripping a bloody trail.

"Motherfuck!" My hand stung but quickly faded as an owl howled in the background. I resisted pulling the sore skin against my jeans, knowing it would only lead to a possible infection if it got any dirt in the wound. It wasn't deep but it was enough to draw a few drops of blood.

Coming to the end of the forest I had started to shake. The air was getting colder and the rips in my jeans weren't helping. Light shone across the meticulously cut lawn from behind the wall of windows. But I couldn't cross the grass. After six, I knew the alarm would be on and a code could be pressed into the system to allow a car to get into the garage. I made my way to the edge of trees towards the small control system. I flipped open the small clear plastic protection. Four digits came to mind. They could have changed. Have they, the alarm would go off. I could knock but there was the chance the queen bitch was home. I couldn't risk that.

Sighing, I pressed lightly onto the control pad and stared intently until a green light blinked to the left of the console. Feeling more confident, I strolled casually across the gravel, rounding the house to the left side, where I wouldn't be seen.

The first sign I should have left were the open French doors which lead to nothing on the second floor. But I am stubborn enough not to have let something like that bother me. The trellis was still mounted onto the wall. Though with massive roses with even larger thorns. I frowned and heaved myself up, mentally cussing with each penetration. I looked like I had purposefully slashed my hands up once I sat on the floor, looking them over.

Several drops fell down my wrist and onto my thighs. I mentally cursed again and grabbed a few Kleenexes'. The flow stopped, as I knew it would and I went to the door, opening it silently to listen for anyone in the hallway. I heard nothing. I left the door open just a little while turning to the desk.

I rummaged through ever single drawer. I tried the computer but without the password – and I tried multiple possibilities' – it was impossible. I shut off the screen and scanned the top of the glass counter.

Papers on nothing important quickly killed my interest and I moved onto the bookcase. I removed one book at a time. I shuffled through the pages and quickly put the book back. I lost interest after a minute and moved onto the music. I opened partially hidden drawers at the very base of the bookcase. Nothing except for a few decks of cards and other mindless crap. I shut the draw with too much force.

"Fuck!" I hissed.

"Looking for something specific?" I whirled around, feeling my heart about to pop out of my chest. I didn't let it show though.

"How could possibly have heard me?" He jerked his head backwards.

"The alarm beeps inside once deactivated." Oh. Excellent Bella! "I'm surprised you remembered the code." I sneered discretely at him and closed the drawer with a silent thump. A smirk was playing at the edge of his lips.

"Do you find this amusing?" He didn't answer but the tone of my voice made the smirk disappear. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem? I'm not the one who broken in."

"The doors were open. And yes; _your_ problem. Do you have any fucking idea how you fucked me over last night? Pretty much attacked me in my room and have the fucking nerve to say the shit you said and then leave! Do you have any idea the fucking position you put me in? And then you fucking smirk? What the fuck?" My rant end and I run a hand through my hair. I just remembered there was a possible chance Rosalie was home but by the semi relaxed position Edward displayed, leaning against the doorway, I'd say she was out and about at the moment.

"My problem? I just found out you work for Aro. Do you have any idea how it felt getting to that realization?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Stop yelling!"

"Start making some fucking sense!" His face flared and he looked away for a brief second. I took a deep breath. "How much do you know?" He took a deep breath as well before looking at me.

"Everything." My stomach dropped. "About Volturi." I felt a little better. At least he didn't know the shit I'd done or had done to. Somehow – even as I was a slip away from wringing his neck – I couldn't bare having him know what I had done and would do.

"From your dad?" His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yes," he revealed after a moment. "How did you-"

"I remember from the beach. How does he know all of this?" He was quiet. I got mad. "Answer me." He didn't. I leered before grabbing my cell phone. "I can always call Aro. Anytime, anywhere." That seemed to shake his foundation.

"Put the phone away."

"Why? You won't give me any answers."

"He won't tell you over the phone."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because he needs to know you can keep your mouth shut!" I knew what that meant. I spent months in Russia learning how to keep my mouth shut. I shuddered at the memory. The scars on my back seemed to burn. "At the beginning of WW1, the government put together a team. They were to use any force they wanted to take out the enemies."

"Sounds ridiculous," I interrupted. Edward huffed.

"Of course it does. That's the point. Who in their right minds would ever believe this?" He had a point.

"Was it the Volturi?"

"No. Sort of. The name isn't important. Anywho… my great-grandfather was a part of that team. Just like Aro's grandfather. At the end of WW2, many members who still were didn't approve of Aro's grandfather's way of dealing with things. They were all murderers but he took it too far. Anywho, as Germany crumbled, Aro's grandfather was reportedly gunned down. We didn't know he survived until thirty years ago. When he actually died. The remainder of the team, those who weren't sharing his believes formed a different government agency or whatever you would like to call it behind the Cullen inc. name."

"What's Cullen inc?"

"Office supply company." I almost laughed.

"So what's the difference?"

"For one Volturi doesn't answer to anyone above. You could say they've gone rogue. And secondly, we don't kill people to get out way."

"We?"

"They. Not the point."

"While it was interesting on a very low level, it still sounds a like a disgustingly morbid bedtime story."

"I don't need you to believe it."

"So why did you tell me?"

"For one I wanted you to hear it the right way. Aro will flip it over in his favor and secondly; you asked. Rather rudely. But still."

"I still don't get it. Why the secrecy?"

"You read the journal?"

"The diary, yeah."

"It's not a- It may seem insignificant but actions like that need to me kept secret. People would panic because they can't trust something they don't understand."

"Aro always says that." He pretended he hadn't heard me.

"Aro wants power more than anything. He's been recruiting people for years. If that's what you want to call it. He manipulates and twists things to whichever his liking."

"But-"

"Do you know why you were given those documents?"

"He just said he wanted me to read it through."

"And?"

"And tell him what I thought."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't you wonder why he would trust that to you?" I felt slightly offended but didn't let it show.

"Of course." Edward inclined a brow. I huffed which then turned into a chuckle. "You don't… don't be ridiculous. Why would he care?"

"Because he's a psychotic psychopath?"

"But it makes no sense. I've never heard of this."

"Maybe he doesn't trust you as well as you think."

"I've proven I'm trustworthy several times in the last three years. But he wouldn't do that. There is no proof that this is true."

"Other than out word against his."

"But he wouldn't-"

"Of course _he_ wouldn't. That's why he has you. Don't you ever wonder why you go after the people you do?"

"Sure but-"

"And whatever "proof" he may have given you; don't you think he could have easily made it up?"

"Why would he go to the trouble?"

"Because he wants power and he needs people to get it." I dind't like where he was heading witht his.

"No! That's not possible. I saw it on the news. They were drug dealers. Murderer's. Aro couldn't have pays off every fucking news station in the entire world!"

"I'm sure most of them deserved it to some degree." My blood turned cold. "But some just got too close." The private investigator's face flashed into my mind. My heart pounded harder. "Some probably didn't even know they were gaining too much."

"But… no! They deserved it! They practically confessed everything!"

"Did Jason deserve it?"

"Who the fuck is Jason?"

"Jenkins."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't do anything to him."

"When you put his car on fire, both firemen and police came."

"So?"

"So they searched his office. He had illegally obtained documents that could send him to jail for the rest of his life. Not to mention the hundreds of criminals he would piss off if he ever said anything."

"I don't-"

"He killed himself, Bella." My heart kept pounding. "Last night in his cell. I went to see him." My hands tingled and my knees felt wobbly.

"No. That's not… possible."

"Tell me. What were you so interested in that you had to ruin his life?" I placed my hand halfway running though my hair, trying to breathe normally.

"Not important," I mumbled.

"Not important? So you basically got him killed because of something that just wasn't so important?" I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my forefinger and thumb roughly against the lids. I shook my head slowly. This wasn't happening. I'm in some alternative reality and this was some form of sick joke my mind was playing on me.

"Did Aro send you for the documents?" I think I nodded, releasing my eyes.

"You're very stubborn. You couldn't have liked to only get half the facts. He knew that. Do you usually stand up to him stubbornly?" I nodded one more time.

"Do you see how easily he manipulated you?"

"It's just not… why would he do that?"

"Jenkins had a lot of shit on him. He had a lot of shit on everyone. Aro probably didn't like the possibility of a future black mailing." I took a step back and the back of my legs caught on the bed. I sat down, trying to find some reality in this. My arms hung limply at my sides. "Jenkins may have been a criminal. But he, technically, never hurt anyone. He didn't deserve to die like that."

"Stop it," I whispered while closing my eyes. A door slammed shut downstairs. I whipped my head up. Edward looked back at the hallway, off the doorway.

"Edward?" Rosalie's shrill voice cut through the tension and I immediately stood up, retracting from the door. "I need to talk to you." I heard footsteps on the stairs.

"You should leave," he said quietly, almost closing the door.

"But…" I started to protest while simultaneously backing towards the French doors.

"Just… don't call Aro yet. Please." The footsteps became louder.

"I want to know everything," I whispered. Edward nodded his head absently. I knew she was just outside the door. It wouldn't be good if Rose saw me here.

I turned and jumped out the window to the left. I caught the trellis just in time for the door to swing open and the French doors to close. I couldn't make out their mumbled voices. My main focus was to not fall. I didn't have time for a broken ankle or leg.

I fished my way down fast, careful when stepping onto the lawn. I didn't know whether she'd turned on the alarm again or what. I say their silhouettes in the window. Pressing myself to the house, I inched my way around and when I saw the driveway, I started running.

The ground seemed more uneven than when I came. The air was cold and I caught the first drops of rain by the time I reached my car. I threw open the door and crushed the gas. The car careened down the road so fast I didn't even see the white mailbox.

* * *

_**AN: 15 pages. Am I great or what? I hope the lengths of this particular chapter will make up for the fact that I haven't updated in several months. **_

_**And as of right now, I've only read through it once. After I've updated, I will fix whatever mistakes I can find and re-post. **_


	11. Numb

_**Numb**_

I heard the loud cheers and barks of disappointment from the porch. I turned the knob and opened the door quietly. Putting the duffle bag on the second step, I quietly unlaced my shoes, fully expecting Charlie to be asleep on the couch like he always is at a good hour into a game or possibly ten minutes into any movie in history. But tonight I was mistaken.

As my second shoe fell to the ground, Charlie steps up from behind the wall and leaned against the archway.

"That took time," he observed. I removed my jacket and hung it up.

"I was talking to Jasper."

"Really? Cause he called a few minutes ago, to check in. He said you left directly after dropping him off."

"Did he now?" I whispered while mentally sighing. "Dad. I'm basically a grown up. Does it really matter where I was during the hour and a half unaccounted for?" He hated when I spoke to him like I was under suspicion. He frowned to which I smirked quickly.

"I didn't mean… are you hungry?"

"We just ate dinner."

"You barely ate anything."

"I'm fine." He looked like he was going to protest but right then, another bark of cheers scorched from the living room. Charlie turned his head around and got back inside, mumbling incoherency under his breath. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and by the time I was done, Charlie was already asleep on the couch.

I pushed the strap of my bag over my shoulder and ascended the familiar steps. Pushing the door open, I let the bag drop onto the bed while rummaging through for the oversized t-shirt I sleep in.

I then go to find fresh towels from the linen closet in the hallway just outside my bedroom. The game is still going strong and Charlie's snores are prominently louder. I should wake him up. He'll complaint of neck pains for days. Which means I'll have to hear him complain for days. But then again, he'll be more pissed if I took him away from the game before it finished. Even if he was asleep.

I get two towels and then disappear into the bathroom.

The water felt great against my skin. I ran my hand over and down my shorter hair. My eyes snapped open and I watched the end rest against my collar bones. I hated it. First thing in the morning, I'm fixing it. I could stand the length but the color; it was the old me. That girl's dead.

I turned off the water and got out, wrapping the smaller towel around strands to get it as dry as possible. As I reached for the t-shirt, my hand stopped midway. I had caught a glimpse of my back. I straightened up and turned, watching the light scars. Some were still a pinkish color. They had been smart. I could still wear the average tank top, dress or whatever without having them shown. Most of them had been reopened over and over.

Do you have any idea the amount of pain and exhaustion that comes with someone pushing large amounts of grainy salt against an open wound?

After a while, you think you're too numb to feel anything and your body starts to relax. That's the first mistake. The pain gets worse and then you might pass out. If you're lucky.

I can still feel the small pebble-like grains rolling around inside me. It's what I would imagine acid to feel like when poured all over you.

I look away from the image, disturbing flashbacks pushing themselves into my consciousness. I sit down on the edge of the tub, leaning my forehead against my hand. I can feel I'm shaking but I don't even try to hold it back. I'm not sure why I'm shaking. I'm not exactly a touchy feely kind of person who cries. But when my heart rate started to spike and beads of sweat cover my forehead I suddenly feel the urge to let it all out. After years of holding it all in – mostly – I actually have a moment of clarity where I feel I can wallow in pity and self loathing.

But I don't let tears escape. The last time I cried was at my grandfather's funeral when I was twelve.

I couldn't imagine what Aro would do if he found out I'm intentionally avoiding him. I didn't want to think about it. But with the way I flinched and shook at my last reminiscing; I knew I didn't want to find out.

So I took a deep breath and stood up, shoving the t-shirt over my head, hanging up the towels and then getting back to my room. But before I have chance to open the door, I hear something from inside. I immediately stop and hold my breath.

I barely let my feet touch the ground as I pulled a frame from the wall and removed the glass. I hung back the frame and placed the glass behind my back. I know it may look unstable but I can get very creative when I want to. I pull the handle but didn't have a chance to move when I saw the figure sitting on my bed, holding my gun, inspecting the inscriptions.

I glared at him and put the piece of glass down on the floor before getting inside. One look back confirmed that Charlie was still snoring loudly on the couch. The game was on high. I knew he wouldn't wake up any time soon. I closed the door quietly before walking over to the bed and ripping the gun from his hands.

"Aren't you worried it could have gone off?" he asked casually, fully aware the safety was on. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the newly opened duffle bag and shoved it into the closet. I laid the gun on the desk, turning around, gently sitting on the edge.

"Not the gun?" he asked.

"Not sure yet," I replied with sarcasm. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You wanted to talk?" My gaze flipped towards the window before returning to him. "That used to be a lot easier," he pointed towards the tree outside. "I almost fell down." I smirked.

"I would have loved to see that."

"I'm sure you would," he said to himself while leaning back, placing his back against the headboard.

"They deserved it," I finally said after minutes of silence. Edward said nothing. "_All_ of them."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he finally muttered.

'_Nothing helps me sleep at night,'_ I thought while ignoring his statement.

"I should call Aro." Edward gaze turned upward, waiting for me to continue. "I should tell him everything."

"But?"

"Exactly. There is no 'but'."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want."

"Don't be naïve Edward. You say you know everything about Volturi. Do you really think I've ever been given a choice?"

"So you were literally taken from school and dropped wherever their _training_ goes on?"

"Basically."

"Basically and literally isn't the same thing." I looked away, not wanting this to go any further.

"I think you should leave," I said while walking across the room to open the window, crossing my arms.

"I thought you said you wanted to talk."

"I changed my mind." He stood up, trying to decipher my sudden outburst. I refused to give in.

"What did they do?" I said nothing. "Did they threaten to kill you?" I huffed which told him no. "Did they threaten Jasper? Charlie?" My hands were trembling. I wanted to punch something.

"Stop it." My voice was trembling but it wasn't the same as in the bathroom. I was mad. Pissed even. I wanted to take it out on someone and if he didn't choose his words carefully, he would be it.

"Talk to me." He reached out a hand but I slapped it away.

"Just leave," I looked pointedly at the window and then back at him. The cold breeze swept in over my exposed legs, making me shiver. I tried to ignore it. "Were you on the phone with the guy who "guarded" Jenkins?"

"You mean Max?" I rolled my eyes.

"I don't care."

"Yes." I nodded.

"Did you know it was me?"

"No."

"No? Not even a ridiculous thought registered?"

"No. Not at all actually."

"How many years?" I asked, just now remembering our second to last conversation in my hotel room.

"Fifteen. Give or take a few months." I continued my questions, not going to think about any of the answers until later. But I didn't get to ask any more questions.

"You called Jasper a lot."

"Wouldn't say a lot-"

"But at least you called to let them know you were alive. They must have been keeping tabs on your calls. Right?" I didn't have to nod for him to take my silence as a conformation.

"For how long?" I'm not sure how we were able to keep up a conversation with questions this vague but somehow, we understood each other completely.

"Over a year."

"Where?"

"Russia," I whispered while adverting my gaze, not liking this to get so personal. His expression softened. He must know how the Volturi trained.

"You… You could have at least called. Once." I opened my mouth to say something but my closet started to vibrate. I let it ring but it was persistent and I had no outgoing message. There was only a beep and it seemed whoever was calling wasn't willing to leave a message. I left Edward standing by the window and grabbed my duffle bag before shoving it onto the bed. I rummaged through and found the cell phone. The number was all too familiar. I swallowed before answering.

"Yes?"

"Isabella. Hello." I didn't like his tone.

"Hey. I was just about to call you."

"How wonderful. And? What do you think about the documents?" I quickly glanced at Edward before running a hand through my hair.

"To be completely honest I'm at a loss for words." It wasn't a lie.

"Oh. How so?"

"Well it seems so… circumstantial."

"In what way?"

"Not much of it makes sense." Maybe I didn't have to lie my way out of this.

"I see."

"If you could tell me what this was all about maybe-"

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable doing this over the phone." I rolled my eyes and suppressed a sigh.

"Then my opinion is that they are articles taken at random by someone who liked mysteries."Aro was silent for a few moments.

"I'm sure this may come as a shock to you but… Volturi isn't the only organization with the authority we have."

"What do you mean?"

"The articles you have along with papers and journal… they are all the work of a different organization who, I fear, has reached its breaking point." I focused on breathing regularly. "What you have is the history they haven't blamed on innocent bystanders."

"Who are they?"

"It used to be one organization. During WW1 a team stood together and formed an organization that allowed them to use measures others couldn't because of the law. In such, they were kept secret since people fear what they don't understand. But conflicts of interest happened and the team split. One half was the foundation of Volturi."

"Okay," I said, sounding as if I was barely believing it.

"While Volturi have been keeping a low profile, the other company or organization – whichever you prefer – has been reckless and sloppy. I fear they have gone out of control. The folder you have only contain the small amount of history we were able to link together due to various similarities. There are a lot more Isabella, I assure you."

"I believe you," I said with reassurance.

"Naturally. We want to be absolutely sure since we cannot have any innocent hurt but we are sure now that they have reached their breaking point."

"Why did you want me to read this? Am I the first to know?"

"At the moment, yes. Except for Caius and Marcus, of course. And I wanted you to know because… this will not be easy to hear." I saw Edward give me a look to which I shrugged with one shoulder. I didn't know what I believed but… if I cited with Edward it would mean everything I've gone through, everything I've _done_ in the past three years have been a lie. I couldn't believe I've been so easily manipulated. So willing to do as they said and for what? Approval?

But I couldn't think about that now. Later. Everything had to come later.

"What is it?" I answered.

"When you first came to us," I resisted the urge to snort; like I came willingly, "we did a background check. Very standard. We do it to everyone. One name stood out as one of your _acquaintances_."

"Oh?"

"Edward Masen." I held my breath, knowing it would give me away if I suddenly drew in a short breath. "I assume you know him?"

"Yes. But I fail to see your point." Edward was now standing right beside me. I jumped because I had been too distracted to notice him moving. He held up a hand, wanting to know what was being said. I responded by trying to push him away.

"Edward is the grandchild of one of the original members."

"Aha."

"His grandfather was the one who first initiated the slip between the now two organizations."

"Which means?" I heard the frustrated sigh. But I wasn't going to play this game now.

"I know you two have history," I rolled my eyes, "but I have proof he was in on the Laurent case." For a second, I was back at the club, walking across the floor with the very blonde wig, freezing as I thought I saw Edward. I knew it was ridiculous but when Aro said what he said, I didn't know what to think.

"You have proof?"

"We have several witnesses swearing he was involved."

"But not photographs or anything of the sort?"

"These are highly reliable men, Isabella. I'm sure you know the meaning of that."

"Yes. Of course." Aro stayed quiet for a second.

"I must say; you are taking this exceptionally well."

"I don't think it has had time to sink in yet."

"I know it may seem bad but there is also some good news involved."

"There is?"

"We need you back." I froze, not trying to fend Edward off now.

"What?" My tone had change and it was at a crossroad between wondering if he was joking and incredulousness.

"I know it's been hard for you but I thought by getting you back early you'd be less resisting than what you've shown to be in the past." I almost flinched. "I thought you would be happy to hear this."

"I am I'm just… I guess I liked this more than the idea."

"You want to stay? I'm sorry but that is not a possibility."

"Right."

"Don't fret my dear. I'm glad you've shown an increase interest in your family. Perhaps they won't do something stupid again if you visited more often."

"Probably not," I tried to joke.

"There is a reserved first class seat on the fifteenth. Don't miss it."

"I won't."

"Goodbye Isabella." I hung up and fell back against the door.

"Shit," I whispered and rubbed my face.

"What?" Edward asked next to me. I was about to answer when another being interrupted me. The knob turned and I pushed Edward back against the wall and stood in the opening to see my father's drowsy expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked while blinking to regain consciousness. The TV was off as were the lights downstairs.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" I could make out Edward in my peripheral vision. This would not end well.

"I thought I heard noises."

"Noises? I think you're tired dad. Get some sleep."

"Yeah, yeah. Sleep tight sweetheart."

"Night," I said and closed the door. He was too tired to remember that conversation in the morning. I hoped.

"What did Aro want?"

And then a whole other problem festered its way into my mind. I turned.

"Have you been to LA?" He looked puzzled.

"Many times."

"How about last week?" He hesitated. That was my answer. I shook my head. "I knew it. It was you, wasn't it? In the club?" He looked incredulous.

"You were there?"

"Of course I was!" I hissed and then stole a glance towards the door. I still heard Charlie's snores through the wall. They weren't made of paper but Charlie's snores could cut through iron.

"I swear I didn't-"

"You didn't know? How believable."

"I swear I didn't know. I never saw you."

"Aro told me. They have witnesses who say you were behind the Laurent case."

"I wasn't-"

"You weren't on his team them?"

"Yes… but it's not what you think!" He hissed. "Don't act like I'm the enemy here."

"What the fuck am I supposed to believe?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I was infiltrating his team for information." I was about to ask what kind of information but only an idiot would ask that.

"What were you doing in the club?"

"I was on my way to see Laurent."

"What for?"

"To do what I'm now assuming you already took care of." I left it at that while shaking my head.

_Is this really happening? _

I lean back against the door. "I have to leave," I say after a few moments of silence.

"When?"

"Two days."

"So it's going to be like before?"

"No. I'll visit now. Charlie would die if I don't and that would be kind of sad."

Edward nodded and sat down again. I grabbed my bag, shoved the gun inside and then threw the polyester confinement into the corner.

"What did they say?" My gaze shot up but I didn't turn around. I gently lad my phone on my desk. "What did they threaten you with?"

"Don't do this, please."

"Was it Jazz? Or maybe Renee?"

"They never got that far," I whispered and turned around. He looked as if he was about to say something but I interrupted. "Do you really have to ask?" Apparently he didn't. I shook my head. "They had my schedule. They knew where I had lunch, they knew when and where I took my classes… they knew _everything_." I could feel the pity roll all over me. Leaning back I finally felt the chill of the old house and it made the skin on my thighs prickle.

"You should go," I said. "I need to try to get some sleep."

"I don't want to leave like this."

"Sorry but you don't have choice."

"And tomorrow?"

"What about it? Nothing happened today. Everything is as it's supposed to be with the both of us in ignorant bliss. And we'll go back to the semi-awkward stage we were in when I got here."

"But I can't leave knowing you'll go back to that."

"Sure you can. The worst part is over. Nothing they can do will have any effect on me anymore." Edward started at me for another moment before turning away. He opened the window completely and sat on the sill before jumping out, taking hold of the tree before pushing his way down to the ground.

I closed the door and sat down on my bed. Knowing I wasn't going to be able to sleep for a long time, I picked off my phone off the ground and scrolled down the screen until I saw the name of the one person who could possibly understand any of this.

"Hey," he answered on the second ring.

"I need to tell you something," I revealed in a whisper.

"Okay." His tone was calm, cautions. It was many times I called in the middle of the night.

"I don't know what to do."

"You can tell me anything, you know that."

"I'm not sure I can over the phone."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know. I just– Maybe it was a mistake calling."

"No. Of course not. Is it really that bad?"

"I don't know. I have no answers anymore."

"Do you want me to come out there? I can be on the next flight."

"I'm coming back in two days. Or one, rather."

"I'm not sure what to say."

"It's fine. I'll talk to you when I get back."

"But you're okay, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." There was a pause before he started talking again.

"I installed your satellite. You officially have every channel on the planet." I half smirked and shook my head.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know. It's more a gift to me than you." Now I laughed. "So I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"What time do you land?"

"Uhm… 1:45. "

"I'll see you then. Goodnight Bells."

"Night Emmett."

* * *

**AN: So sorry it's taken such a long time for this chapter to get done. I'm horrible. I know. But it's difficult when you know the story but don't have the right words for it. I'm not a perfectionist but I don't want it to sound too silly.  
It's sorter than what I wanted but still; 11 pages. That's not too shabby. **


	12. Iridescent

**AN: It pains me to say this but summer is over. Though technically, it never even begun here. I've never been one to waste time lying on the ground waiting for a tan that will eventually leave just as quickly, though I do miss the sun's heat. **

**BUT… when summer ends, all our favorite shows start against and personally, I can't wait for Dexter, The Vampire Diaried and The Big Bang Theory – to name a few – to start up again. **

**And with the start of shows I thought I'd go ahead and update my stories. I've written a lot during the summer but haven't had the time or will to correct many of the misspelled words and horribly incorrect grammar. I'm Swedish… bear with me. **

**Alright, this has become a too long AN and I do apologize for making you read all of it – or not, depending on your character. Either way, here's the new chapter. Hope it doesn't suck! **

* * *

_**Iridescent**_

I woke to sunlight, if you can believe it.

The sun was pouring through my window, making it incredibly hot. I frowned at the sight, even though I was well adjusted to having sunlight in my face when I woke up. But sun wasn't supposed to be here. In Forks. It seemed too odd. Like something wasn't right.

But I didn't want to mull over the endless possible situations that could happen. Today, I was content in simply lying on my bed, staring at the dust flying into the sun. I could have lain there all day but nature called and after, there was no point in getting back down.

I flung the oversized t-shirt onto the bed and then threw on a simple dark grey tank top which exposed my shoulder blades and a white thin long-sleeved shirt which dropped at one shoulder. After zipping a pair of old knee-long ripped jean shorts, I jumped down the stairs, pulling my hair back in a messy but secure bun.

"Morning dad," I greeted at the sight of Charlie as he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee inside the protective circle of his newspaper.

"Good morning sweetheart." I poured myself some orange juice before leaning against the counter, waiting for the right moment to tell him I was leaving again. "What are you doing today?"

I shrugged. "Nothing much. Maybe hike or something." Charlie looked up with an amused expression.

"You hate hiking."

"I know." He shook his head and finished the coffee.

"I would have wanted to spend some time with you today but I have to work another shift."

"It's okay."

"No it's not. But you're not leaving. We have plenty of time." My face fell and I sat down the glass.

"Actually I am." Charlie turned and looked at me. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"But… I thought you were home to stay." I shook my head.

"My life's not here anymore, dad." His frown deepened.

"At least I'm glad I got a goodbye this time." My face fell further and my head sank.

"I guess I deserve that," I whispered. "I'm gonna visit dad. I promise."

"Yeah. Sure." He grumbled something else under his breath before leaving me alone in the kitchen, shutting the door too harshly. I jumped at the sound, feeling the self-loathing wash over me in waves.

It was so quiet in the house. I moved through the dining room and then the living room. My feet made the floorboards groan. Shaking my head, I made my way up the stairs again. I got my phone, keys and the first credit card I could find before I left the house.

Forty-six minutes later I found myself standing in the bathroom, reading the instructions intently but still found myself scrunching my brows in confusion. I've never dyed my hair from a box before. Granted, I didn't start dying it until right after I got back from Russia but still… I wasn't even sure how I would know if I covered the whole hair, even if it is marginally shorter than what I'm used to.

Finally, I mentally shrugged and threw the box into the sink, put on the too-large plastic gloves before shaking the mix together.

I had to use three different mirrors before I found it good enough. I pulled the hair back with a rubber band and set the timer.

Just as I finished washing out the last traced of dye – which took well over twenty minutes, I might add – my phone chimed from the bedroom. I turned the towel tightly around my head before rushing to answer without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Wanna do something today?"

"What?" I sat down on the bed, trying to get my tank top and shirt on again.

"I'm bored. And there's nothing good on TV."

"So you called me. I feel honored."

"You can't sit in that house the whole day. You're leaving tomorrow. You have to get out to at least say goodbye."

"Not that it's really any of your business but I was planning on taking a hike today."

"You hate hiking."

"So I've been told. But you're welcome to tag along."

"Well I suppose I have to. You'll probably fall into a ravine and starve to death."

"There are no ravines in Forks."

"None you know of."

"Edward…"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." I hung up and threw the phone next to me, finally being able to pull the top over my head. I open my old dresser, knowing I still had some shorts in there. I stood up and glanced outside. The sun was shining unnaturally bright. Leaves of the tree barely moved so I knew it would be scorching.

I canvassed my old desk for another rubber band that wasn't covered in dye when I found a ring. It was nothing special in estimation. Vintage look in brass, worn in delicate features with a large oval turquoise stone, it was worth less than a cheeseburger at McDonalds. But it never turned my finger green so I rationalized that's the reason for keeping it.

I picked it up and placed it on my right index finger. It was too large so I pinched it together, resizing it. Told you it was cheap.

After lacing up a pair of sneakers, I grabbed my phone and left the room, going straight outside; using the spare key above the lamp. As soon as I locked up – as if he knew – Edward pulled up to the house, keeping the engine running as I made my way over. The car was sufficiently cool as I sat down.

"Is that all you're wearing?" I raised my brow in amusement.

"Do you disapprove?" Has he become a prude in the last few years?

"Definitely not. But it's gonna rain today." I look outside before turning to him.

"No it's not."

"They said so on the news."

"What the fuck are you doing listening to the news for? There's not a cloud in sight."

"But there will be." I rolled my eyes and buckled the seatbelt as he drove quickly away from the house.

We drove for twenty minutes, coming just outside of town to a trail. The forest was still damp with yesterday's drizzle but the sun shining through brought out a heat which didn't make it as uncomfortable.

As the car stopped, I made for the door handle but Edward's hand grasped my arm, I turned my head, looking at his hand until he took the hint and removed it.

"Yes?"

"Can we for today just pretend that we aren't supposed to hate each other or try to kill one another?" I rolled my eyes dramatically before pretending to think about it.

"Alright." Edward grinned and held out his hand. I raised one brow. "Are you serious?" He nodded and I reached out my hand, shaking his before getting out of the car.

We made our way through the forest, starting on the trail but soon ventured off it and walked in comfortable silence, every other minute saying something completely random.

"So I heard you're a vegetarian now." Edward said after we crossed a brook. I shrugged slightly in half response.

"It was a-" cutting myself off, I stayed silent. Edward – obviously waiting for my response, stop walking.

"What?"

"I figured you wouldn't want to hear the rest since, I don't know..."

"I want to hear." I turn towards him, face empty of emotion.

"They kept a _unique_ diet... in Russia. I wouldn't call it a stew except I have no other word for it. It tasted horrible and once I got back I couldn't even look at meat without wanting to throw up." Edward's face softened and he looked away, not wanting to say something inappropriate. "But I'm over it. So… shall we?" I gestured down the road. Edward nodded absentmindedly before continuing next to me.

After five minutes, when he had yet to say a word I sighed loudly in frustration.

"Wow this is more awkward than when I got home in eight grade and caught Renée and Charlie going at it on the couch." Edward chuckled.

"I'm sorry. I just… really don't know what to say."

"How about anything so I don't have to be weighed down by the sheer tension because I brought up something we aren't supposed to talk about."

"To be fair, I did ask."

"But I didn't have to agree."

"I am hard to resist." I rolled my eyes and punched his arm. He pretended it hurt but I saw the flinch. I tried not to smile.

"And I don't hate you, by the way," I said, starting back up again, looking closely at my feet, finding the ground too unreliable.

I'm not sure why I have such a hard time listening when give an advice. Maybe it's the fact that my dad's a cop and even though he always went easy on me, the interrogation tone never really went away. And I always have to bitch back to the Volturi even when I know to shut my mouth. If I were normal, I'd have to go to mandatory therapy.

I look out at the pouring rain before returning my gaze to Edward.

"How long do we have to stay here?"

"Till is stops."

"You do realize that can take all day? Maybe even night."

"Do you want to risk going out in that?" He gestured out the cave and I stared at the forecast with a frown and raised brows.

"So now what?"

"I don't know. I told you it was going to rain." I rolled my eyes with a frown, hating how easily I've adapted to the endless sun of California.

My back hits the rock wall and I slid down, resting my arms on my knees, thinking how I wouldn't mind not going back even if it meant it would rain ever fucking day.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asks and sits down next to me. Too close. He's in the same posture as I and our legs are just barely touching. It's not that I'm a prude and don't want to sit next to a guy. But it was physically painful leaving the last time. I'm not sure how I will take it this time but I know I'll take it a lot worse if he were to "accidentally" lean in too close.

"That I don't want to leave," I whisper, turning my head towards him.

"I thought you'd want to go back. The heat and sun."

"I hate the sun, remember?" He grins lopsided and I try not to fidget with my hands.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't want you to leave either." I lean my head back, content at staring up at the drooping ceiling of the cave than at him.

"It doesn't," I whisper. Even over the rain, I know he hears me but he says nothing.

"I know this is going to sound lame but can I have your phone number?" I crack a smile and nod. He hands me his phone and I punch in the numbers.

"Be honest with me." I look up as he takes his phone back, pushing it into his pocket.

"Okay," I start, warily.

"What happened, exactly?"

"When?"

"When they… found you." I took a deep breath.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything." I purse my lips, thinking of the best way to phrase something that sounds as if it's taken directly from the worst crime novel.

"They were waiting in my dorm room. My roommate was lying on the floor with a big gash on her forehead. It was only the woman who spoke. She told me they had been watching me for weeks. Loner who never partied during the weekends or did drugs. I was a perfect candidate, they said." I licked my lips, feeling cold all of a sudden. "They told me where they "work" and how they wanted me to join. I thought they were fucking crazy and said no. But she just smiled at me and reached for something behind her. It was a laptop. She opened the screen and…" I stop, not sure if I should tell him the rest.

"And?" I shake my head discretely.

"And it was a live-fee video. Of… you, actually. The person filming brought the camera back and showed a man standing not even twenty feet away from you, holding a shotgun, aimed straight at your head." I glance at Edward and he has a look of complete astonishment written all over his face. "So I said I'd go."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

"You shouldn't have done it." But his tone doesn't quite level with what he was saying.

"No?" My brows rose and I barely conceal a huff. "Then what? You'd be dead and I still would have wound up there."

"You don't know that."

"But I do. They weren't going to let me leave. I figured this way I'd have a better chance at getting away. Wow, I was naïve." I let my head fall back, turning it towards him.

"I had no idea," he whispers, seeming in deep thought.

"Which was my intention," I fill in. He sits there without saying another words and the quiet grows on me. "Where did you learn how to surf?"

"Australia," he says automatically. I nod, silently pressing for more. "I went to stay there for a few months a while back."

"I've always wanted to go to Australia," I say quietly.

"Tell me something," he says abruptly after minutes of silence.

"What?"

"I don't know. Anything. We can always do 20 questions." I sigh.

"Are you ever going to be bored with asking me these random and useless questions?" He leans in close and whispers into my ear;

"No."

"Then I should tell you that I've always known how to play pool." Edward is genuinely shocked by this. Or maybe he's mocking me.

"Really?" I nod, trying not to smirk.

"Technically, I never said I couldn't play. I just said you were welcome to teach me." He opens his mouth, probably to say something but instead chuckled knowingly.

"Those are very dirty thoughts you have." I nod, still smirking.

"Mhm… you can thank HBO and Showtime for my creativity."

The ground shook as lightning lit the sky. My gaze drew upwards automatically. I blinked against the light as another round of lightening burned. But no thunder. Yet.

"Now we really can't leave," Edward said, mostly to himself.

"Come on. A little electrocution can't hurt in the long run. I've seen YouTube clips of people having lighting go through their heads and they still live to tell the tale."

"You're much more morbid now." I nod.

"I don't sleep much. Crazy thoughts surface when I've gone more than thirty hours."

"You go thirty hours without sleep?"

"Some days."

"I would ask if it's really that bad but that seems like a question only an asshole would ask."

"You're not an asshole," I say, watching another burst of lightning shoot across the sky. "And it's not always so bad. Only when I mouth off at times when I should shut up." I don't understand the significance of the sentence until he speaks again.

"And then what?" My whole body freeze. My mind rumble over every possibly explanation and or excuse I could come up with. But I'm all out today. Instead I don't say anything. Which is probably worse since my silence alarms him. "What do they do, Bella?" I shake my head.

"Nothing, just forget about it."

"I can't now," he persists while trying to grab my arm, presumably to see if there are any markings he's neglected to notice before. I try to get my arm back but don't see the great harm in it since the only markings I have are on my back.

And as if he heard it, his hand accidentally brushes against my side, too far back and I misinterpret his action as if he was trying to pull up my shirt. I jerk away from him and get off the rocks, turning away as bite my lip and thinks of way to get away from this.

But he's already behind me, having gotten up too silently. His hand brushes against the small of my back and I jerk away a second time, my heart beating too fast.

"The fuck are you doing?" He doesn't answer. He makes a grab for my sweater again and I grab his arm this time, rather forcefully. "Don't." He ignores me again and pushes harder. He's fisted the hem of the shirt and I try not to let him turn me around be he's stronger than I gave him credit for. "Please don't," I plead one last time.

The shirt doesn't have to ride up much before he sees the marks. They're not _grotesque_ by any means. Every line is a shimmering shade of white and some are more pronounced than other because of repeated opening.

I can feel my hands shake and then my arms. My breath comes out on shallow and inaudible gasps. When the better part of an eternity – or more likely ten seconds – has gone by, I jerk away– with more force than necessary – and pulls down my tank and shirt until I'm assure nothing is shown.

Edward is standing with an unreadable expression and my skin is crawling to say something – anything – to make this awkwardness go away. In the end I don't have to.

"They did that to you every time you mouthed off?"

"Not every time," I say; my voice almost cracking.

"What else did they do?"

"Does it matter?" My tone deflates of emotions and I'm suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. Edward nods.

"It matters to me." I took a breath.

"One time they pushed my head into a tub of icy water to see how long until I passed out. They would grab my arm until it popped and then wait for as long as possibly until popping it back in. They'd break my ribs just to hear them crack. The room would echo with the sound." I licked my lips. "But none of that matters now. It barely mattered then."

"How can you say that?" I shrug, since part of me really can't understand how I can put something like that behind me so easily.

"My ribs healed, my shoulder's fine. I'm not delicate anymore. I'm not going to shatter thinking about it. The pain still gets me, sure, but I'm not going to let it crack me like it did so many others. So you can't look at me with pity. You can't say you're sorry. You can't even ask me how I'm doing every day for fear that I might get too depressed with what I've been through or I might just lose it."

Edward seemed to think about it and finally nodded. He took slow and deliberate steps towards me until finally coming so close he could pull me close. I felt slightly shocked by his huge and found it oddly awkward – as I've never been a mushy corny type. But I snapped out of it and hugged him back, realizing how much I've missed my friends for the past three years.

Needing and ice breaker, I pat him condescendingly on the back twice. "This started out nice but I'm over it," I say, my voice muffled by his shirt. He lets me go immediately.

"I never would have wanted you to ever go through something like that."

"I would hope not. Otherwise I risked Jasper never speaking to me again for nothing."

"Meaning what? If anything he would have stopped speaking to me. And possibly beat me up in the process." I snort quietly.

"I'd agree on the second part, but he would have forgiven you eventually. I'm the fuck up of the family. He'd expect something like that."

"No he wouldn't."

"I'm not mad at him. But based on my previous indiscretions' he's not unfamiliar with my way of… being."

"Previous indiscretions'?" he asked with both brows raised.

"A teacher once said that to me. Not in those words but I think I caught the meaning well enough."

"I really can't convince you otherwise?" I shook my head. "Alright," he sighed and looked past me. "Come on. The thunder stopped we might as well leave now." I absentmindedly nod while following him back to the car. It's not pouring down as it once did but by the time we reached the end of the trail, we were both soaked.

The waves of heat emanating from the air conditioner did almost nothing to dry me up, though it did make my shivers stop. The darkness has descended upon Forks. The huge amounts of almost bursting rain clouds did nothing to improve that.

Edward stops the car outside the house. Charlie's cruiser is already in the single space in front of the garage and Jasper's brought back the Audi. I turn my head towards him, thinking if this is the last time I get to see him before going back.

"I would offer to take you to the airport but Jasper's probably going to want to do that." I don't say anything. "And Charlie would probably wonder why I was here to pick you up since we're technically not even good friends." Again, I say nothing. "Then again, if they look outside now it would look weird if I were dropping you off, wouldn't it?" He's cute when he's rambling. "I mean, since when do two people who barely speak to each other go on hikes together? And um… I've already forgotten what I'm talking about since your silence is really starting to make me uncomf-" I moved fast across the console, grabbed the back of his neck and crashed my lips to his.

We began to move our lips together and when he vowed his hands into my hair, I almost lost it. The kiss was a mistake. But considering I never got to say goodbye the last time, I wasn't going to make that mistake again so in all fairness, the kiss was spot on.

But when I felt him pull me even closer and the faintest touch of his tongue against my bottom lip, I broke away and hurried out the car. I shut the door rather forcefully and briskly walked up the steps and got inside without looking back once.

My heart was hammering in my chest. My hands were shaking. I wanted nothing more than to stay there and continue kissing him since there is no other feeling like it. But kissing him wouldn't be enough and _that_ would have been a real mistake.

"Bella?" Charlie's voice croaked from the kitchen. I ran a hand through my hair and came around the corner, trying my best to look normal. Jasper was sitting on the chair in the corner, his arm draped around the back and a look of amusement and confusion clouded his face as he took in my appearance.

"What happened to you?"

"Went for a hike. It rained. Got soaked. The end." He chuckled.

"You should change before you catch pneumonia." Charlie was standing at the stove, stirring something in a deep pot.

"You let him cook?" Charlie grunted something inaudible while Jasper shook his head.

"He overpowered me, what do you want me to do?" I rolled my eyes and disappeared upstairs to get something that wasn't drenched in polluted water. I pull on a pair of light cargo pants and a thin navy tank top that dropped low enough you could catch a peek of my tattoo at the right side of my ribs.

Walking back downstairs I pulled my hair to the side and made a fishtail braid. The house was filled with a burned tomato-e kind of smell. I scrunched my nose, distrusting of the scent and tied my hair with a small rubber band.

I gently kicked the chair leg which made Jasper look up from his phone with a stupid mushy gin plastered on his face.

"Stop sexting Alice, I need to talk to you." I jerked my head for him to follow me into the living room.

"I wasn't sexting her," he replied when we were out of earshot from Charlie.

"With that stupid grin," it fell quickly from his face, "you were doing something equivalent to sexting."

"You didn't want to talk to me about sexting, did you?"

"No. I need to leave sooner than I had planned."

"Oh… when?"

"Tomorrow." Jasper took a breath and shook his head.

"I thought you were staying longer."

"So did I but I need to get back. They need my help-"

"With all the numbers?" I gave him a quick smile.

"Something like that. I still mean what I said; call me anytime and I'll pick up. I might tell you to fuck off at four in the morning but don't take it personally. When I get sleep I usually want to hold it for as long as possible." He laughed while nodding and we went back into the kitchen, determined to help Charlie with whatever disaster he had created.

After a deep consideration and many harsh words, we were able to pull a stubborn Charlie away from the pot of goo. While he put on a game in the living room like we directed, Jasper ordered a couple of pizzas and I tried to clean up the mess.

Once the food arrived I spend the rest of the evening watching and listening to their constant bickering on who's the better team of that and that sport and whatnot. I've never been good at knowing what guys talk about when you're through and through guys.

The pizzas disappeared quickly, not even the would-be leftovers stood a chance. I cleaned up while Jasper yawned for the fifteenth time that minute. While rubbing his eyes he stood and stretched.

"I should get home. I'm beat." I nodded and gave him a hug.

"You're driving me to the airport tomorrow?" I asked to which he nodded.

"Sure. What time?" I gave him a time of two hours instead of an hour and a half before my plane left. I love my brother but he's a bastard at keeping time. Charlie grunted his goodbye and goodnight while wobbling up the steps.

I stayed behind until I could hear his snores through the ceiling. I cleaned every visible scrap of dirt from the kitchen. It was the least I could do so he wouldn't have to wake up to that shit. It was approaching midnight and though I wasn't even remotely tired, I decided to give it a go and force myself to sleep.

As I entered the bathroom, I shut the door too forcefully and cringed at the shot that went through the house. There was a mere two second interruption before Charlie started snoring again. When he's down he's down. An earthquake probably couldn't wake him.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face and pulled out my hair from the braid. A mess of wavy tendrils fell around and in my face. I sighed it off and wandered slowly into the hallway. Closing Charlie's door seemed to do nothing to decrease the sound. He should really get that checked up. Can't be healthy to make those noises.

I wasn't too surprised as I opened my own door, walked inside and found Edward leaning casually against the wall next to my window. I turned my head to the side and slowly closed the door, feeling for the key to lock. But then I remembered Charlie threw a fit because I had been absent on over half my classes one week and demanded I wouldn't have a private life anymore until he said I could.

"You're getting too good at breaking into my house," I noted, my voice seeming to scream in the relatively silent house. I moved around the room towards the desk and subsequently the CD player. I picked a disk without looking at it and soon Aerosmith softly but determinedly played in the background. If Charlie were going to wake up it wouldn't be to our voices.

"I've had a lot of practice," he replied, still leaning against the wall. I cock my head to the side.

"Any particular reason as to why tonight or do you just want to reminisce old times?" He shrugged his shoulders, keeping his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The window was closed this time but I still saw the fierceness of the wind.

"I figured now was as good as any to talk."

"Hmmm…. Talk?" He nodded. "About what, pray tell?"

"I was hoping we would be able to discuss what happened in the car." The formality was slightly amusing but I was over it. So I shrugged. "What does a shrug mean?"

"It means I don't have a definitive answer to your question that wasn't actually a question." Edward shook his head, running a hand over his face. "Maybe I felt like it," I said, baiting him.

"Felt like it?" I nodded.

"You once said you envied me being so impulsive. That was me being impulsive." It took several moments before he spoke again.

"You're leaving tomorrow, Bella."

"I know."

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I know. But I wanted to."

"You can't always get and do what you want, Bella. Not everything is about you." His harsh words cut through me but I remained impartial.

"I know." He sighed and gently shook his head. I got off the desk and walked up to him. He did nothing as I stood in front of him. I finished unzipping his jacket but his hand grabbed mine.

"Don't."

"We're pretending, remember?" He looked confused. I was too but if he wanted to he could push me away.

"What?"

"'Can we for today just pretend that we aren't supposed to hate each other or try to kill one another?'" I quoted. "And if you're not supposed to hate me, it's now three years ago."

"What ab-" I placed my hand harshly across his mouth while shaking my head.

"There was no talking three years ago." I rose on my feet and got as close as I could without actually having my lips touch him. "I've missed you, Edward." I raised my hands and pulled his jacket off. He complied and pushed away from the wall long enough to let the garment fall to the ground with a thud. "Don't you want me?" I say quietly, my voice husky. Edward's hand tangle in my hair before forcefully crashed me close.

I grab the back and side of his neck to get him closer. Sensing my building urgency, Edward quickly flips us over and crashes me into the wall. I groan into his mouth and claws harder on his neck. Letting go of my hair, he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me up. I wrap my legs tightly around him.

Our tongues collide and we can't ever seem to get enough. Gasp, moans and groans quickly fill the room. I'm suddenly very grateful for the music.

Pushing away from the wall, Edward takes two steps back and fall back onto the bed, making us bump deliciously against each other. A coarse moan gets caught in my throat and I untangle my legs to straddle him.

We break apart long enough for him to take off my shirt and fling it somewhere behind him. My bra is unsnapped and as well flung somewhere across the room. Breaking away for me, Edward starts placing small but hot kisses down my yaw and neck. I pant and bite my lip as to not moan too loudly.

Hooking his hands at the back of my knees, Edward pulls me closer and we both groan, stopping our motions for just one second to relish in the feel. I forcefully get Edward's shirt off and fling it behind me. His skin is cold and it sends Goosebumps on my arms and a shiver down my spine.

Feeling just as urgent as I, Edward spins us around and I bump down on the bed. My pants are unbuttoned and ripped off before I have time to breathe. I drag his mouth back down to mine while working on the belt and button on his jeans.

Getting the last traces of clothing off, I pull back so hard he falls on top of me. I hum in pleasure. He props himself up on his elbows but I press him down, wanting to feel his entire weight on me. Grabbing me roughly beneath my left knee, he slips my leg higher up his body while he pushed the other down to the side. I hissed at the feeling, his tongue twirling against my collarbone. This wasn't the time to go slow and cautiously. We'd never been good at that either way.

His hand leaves my knee and slowly slips up and over my ribs, taking great inventory of every contour before landing on my left breast. I hum which turns into a gasp and his thumb and index finger pinch my nibble, hard. My back arches as much as it could with the limited space. I grab his hair roughly, pushing our lips together again.

Out tongues battle as our breaths comes out in hot pants. Leaving my breast, his hand comes to the bed and as he steadies himself, he starts slipping inside me, excruciatingly slowly. My hand drops from his hair and fist in the pillow above my head. My mouth opens in a silent scream while my eyes roll back into my head. Every nerve is heightened and my skin was on fire.

At first he pushed into me with slow and calculating thrusts. I think I might have told him not to tease me but I couldn't be sure.

Now he drove into me like we'd never see each other again. Maybe we wouldn't. All I knew was that I could barely breathe and my heart was hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it.

I clawed at his back, wanting to get him closer. My leg tightened around him. He'd finally let my other one go and I placed it on the bed for leverage and thrust my hips up to meet his. The new angle made us both groan. My throat was sore. I wondered if I'd screamed. A small pang of fear erupted in my stomach that Charlie had heard but if he had, he'd barged in here, shotgun loaded and ready.

Edward's pace sped up. I tried my best to keep up but my legs had already started to tremble. My hands were next. Every nip and tug Edward's teeth explored on my skin were magnified. Moments of clarity had completely jumped out the window.

Leaving a hot trail down the center of my chest, Edward took my left nipple in his mouth, continuously flicking it with the tip of his tongue while pinching the other almost to the point of pain.

It was enough. I slapped a hand over my mouth so my screams were muffled. Waves of pleasure and Goosebumps erupted over my skin. Edward collapsed on top of me, his face buried in the crook of my neck.

For a moment, it felt exactly the same. Except we usually never stayed at my house, though that's beside the point. A whole summer is a long time to get to know a person.

The next morning I woke up alone. But I knew better than to take it personally. The sun from the previous day was gone. Today rain pelted down, drowning anyone daring to venture outside.

I watched the rain for a while before finally deciding it was time to get up.

I step outside, the wind blowing whisks of hair into my face. I placed my duffle bag on the hood, looking at the small airport like it was a prison.

"Did you happen to see Edward yesterday?" My head turn fast back to Jasper but I managed to keep my face expressionless.

"Briefly, why?" Jasper shrugged.

"He seemed upset about something. I thought maybe he talked to you about it."

"We're not really friends." Jaz opened his mouth but quickly closed it again, shaking his head before looking at the car.

"So what do you plan on doing with the car?" I looked at it, sad to leave it but knowing I can still grab the sister-of-the-year award is far better than any car… no matter how fast it goes.

"Why don't you keep it?" Jasper's entire body froze and it took several seconds before he turned around to look at me, giving me a look that said I just lost my mind.

"What?"

"Keep it. You'll get more use of it than I ever will. Besides, I already have a car back home that – in its way – is far more impressive than this one."

"Yeah, there's no way I'll ever believe that."

"Either way. I want you to have it."

"You just can't give me this. It's too much."

"For my brother? I don't think so. Look, either you take it or I'm selling it and giving you the money."

"You can't sell it!" He looked a mix between outraged and heartbroken.

"Then it's settled." I threw the keys high in the air. He caught them without having to look up.

"This is… insane."

"Not as insane as thinking mom and dad wouldn't know you had been smoking just because you poured Scotch down your throat." Jaz nodded.

"Yeah, that was stupid."

"Reeking of liquor is far more superior." He rolled his eyes and came around the car, hugging me tightly.

"I will never forget this."

"I hope not. Just don't wear it out. It's supposed to outlive you." I tightened my arms for a second before letting go completely. "I'll call when I land just so you know I haven't crashed or something."

"Sounds good." I nodded, mindlessly playing with my fingers.

"I really regret not coming home sooner. There's just so much more and… I really don't want you to hate me." Jasper's face softened and he shook his head.

"I don't hate you. I never did. It would have been easier if I had hater you but… you're still my baby sis and I'll deny it if you tell anyone but you've always been the smartest in the family. I know you don't make long-term decisions impulsively."

"I really don't."

"But don't ever pull that shit again."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He frowned.

"I've always hated that expression." I checked the time. Less than an hour.

"I know. It's the only reason I keep using it. Bye Jazz." I left him at the parking lot as I made a beeline for the sliding doors, never looking back.

The bright sound of the engines' churned through my ears as I envisioned myself somewhere far, far away. Humans weren't supposed to fly. It's unnatural to be locked up in a glamorized tin box that can go down by the tiniest of wind.

I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep when a wave of turbulence shook the place. I clamped my hands tightly onto the armrests, feeling my heart miss several beats. The wave continued for over five minutes. At the end I thought I was going to pass out.

When the plane finally did land, I was so hotwired I wasn't sure I would be able to stand without having my knees buckled underneath me. I didn't try my theory until half the plane was vacant. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to stand on firm ground in my entire life. I needed to get some valium or I would never be able to fly anywhere ever again.

I wobble my way to baggage claim, sitting down while turning on my phone. I have only one text and it's from Emmett.

'_Sorry, can't pick you up. I'll talk to you later.'_ I read the message out loud, though quietly to myself, before typing in a response.

After giving Jasper a quick call – at the sound of his overly relieved tone, I knew he hadn't completely believed me when I said I'd be in better touch this time. I found my bag relatively easy. Life flowed forward like any other day. If only it felt like it.

Early L.A. morning is actually kind of great. Not many people wake up before noon so there's not much traffic and finding a cab seemed to only take a minute.

The second I walked inside my apartment, I felt… weird. Like this wasn't just rental space but a place I was willingly calling home. I don't remember it ever really being my home. Not in the way a home describes a place of settling.

The countertops were impeccably cleaned. There was food in the fridge. Real food. The kind you have to cook to get a result. But I spotted a few pizzas in the back of the freezer.

The entertainment center had been build and set up, with everything placed in the way my OCD mind could handle. The couch now stood against the glass wall, facing the biggest flat screen I'd ever seen. I'd be sure to have headaches for weeks before adjusting.

Everything was tidy, no dust… I would have to buy Emmett something really nice for this.

Speaking of, after I dropped the duffle bag at the edge of my bed, I pulled out my phone, scrolling down for the familiar number. Holding the phone up to my ear, I used my shoulder for leverage as I tried to change at the same time.

"Shorty!" I rolled my eyes but still felt the corners of my lips twitch.

"Barney!" I humored him.

"What's up doc? Did you just come home?"

"I sure did and I must say – without getting mushy – I think I missed you."

"You did? Why that makes me so happy!" he cried in an overly southern accent. I rolled my eyes again.

"Wanna meet up? I haven't worked out in almost a week. I'm going fucking insane."

"I always have time for you. Usual place in half an hour?" I agreed and hung up. Going to my closet, I pulled out the first pair of sweatpants I could find; dark and cropped just below the knees. I pulled on a black tank which had two white crosses above the sad mouth of what I assume must once have been a smiley face. The paint dropped below the eyes, making it seem like the smiley had shot himself. Why did I buy this?

"By the way. Thank for what you did at the apartment," I said while we were on our fifth lap around the block. Starting with a jog, I would be lucky if I managed to even walk home when we were done.

"It was fun."

"The cleaning though was a bit unexpected but still…"

"Oh that wasn't me." I looked up at him.

"Are you letting strangers into my apartment?"

"Just a cleaning lady, hardly the head of Al-Qaida."

"You never know. The things she must hear. She probably has more power than any terrorist and we don't even know about it." We came around the corner and stopped, walking the last few yards before heading into the building.

"Alright. Enough talking about cleaning ladies. I want to hear what you didn't feel comfortable telling me over the phone." He went to stand behind the punching bag, holding the heavy objects by his fingertips as I taped my hands.

"What?"

"Last night? I know you remember it. I've never heard you like that before."

"Oh. That."

"Yes, _that_. Now what is it?"

"It's really nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"I thought something was wrong but it wasn't. Can we let it go?" Emmett narrowed his eyes at me before slowly nodding.

"But you'll come to me if there's anything, right?"

"Of course." I finished and started punching my right hand hard into the bag. Emmett wasn't pleased.

"That's it? Are you serious?" He shook his head as I cracked another punch, harder this time. "One week and she's falling apart," he mumbled. I did a fast kick which he wasn't prepared for. His head flew back in reflex; I smirked smugly as I got in another punch, knocking the bag into Emmett's stomach. "Alright! Alright! Jeez! Say one thing you get killed." I smirked again before landing another hit with my left fist this time.

My hands tingled with adrenaline and if I kicked hard enough, my entire leg started to vibrate with both pain and pleasure. That's a weird sentence.

"So I'm assuming the rest of the stay went well?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether you think my shit fest of a life is well." Emmett opened his mouth but I cut him off. "My parents got a fucking divorce. I mean shit! Is it that hard to say? And yeah I never gave them the opportunity to tell me but still! And my dad is dating. Dating Emmett! His former best friend's wife. How fucked up is that?" I shook my head, breathing hard as I gave one last kick before sitting down, needing a break. "And I bought a three-hundred-thousand dollar car for half of what it's worth." Emmett stood silent for a moment before speaking.

"What did you do with the car?" Of course that is what he would want to know about.

"I gave it to my brother."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"So that's it?"

"What do you mean? That's not enough?"

"No but people usually have a more eventful time when on vacation. Sometimes they tan, go bungee jumping, get laid, see a play." If only I hadn't been drinking, the next moment might have been avoided. But I was and as soon as he said laid mental images from last night's second round began playing before my eyes. Water went down the wrong pipe and I started coughing like a chain smoker. Emmett patted me on the back, watching me intently before something flashes on his fac. Oh fuck now.

"What was that?" His voice practically sang.

"What was what?" But it was to no use; I could barely breathe, let alone speak. My voice cracked fifty times.

"Whatever cold have made you react in such a way?" I coughed some more, determined to ignore him. "I know you don't tan and you promised whenever you got the balls to bungee jump, you'd take me with you and I can't fathom why seeing a play would cause such an unwanted emotion." I avoided is gaze, which only made him fuel his oncoming attack. "Did you pop your cherry?" Several members turned their heads, looking for the culprit. Now I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

"No I did not pop my cherry. Cherry's been popped years ago."

"Well, well. I must saw, I was starting to get worried."

"Why?"

"You're about as anti-sexual as it comes."

"Not a word dumbass."

"Who was it?" His brows shifted wickedly. I was prepared to deny it but my lack of discretion three minutes earlier made that impossible.

"No one you know," I muttered, un-taping my hands.

"Then do tell me of this lucky guy who magically got into your panties." More people turned their heads. I almost blushed.

"Dude, shut the fuck up. This is a public place." He laughed, falling down next to me on the bench.

"You don't have to tell me ev-" at that moment, Emmett's phone began to chime. He put the device to his ears and mumbled a few words before turning to me, hanging up.

"Aro wants to see you." My heart began beating faster but I forced it not to show on my face. "Says it's urgent."

"When isn't it?" I mumbled and took a last sip of water before leaving the hall.

It wasn't far to the docks. We always remain in somewhat close proximity whether it was working out or having breakfast, lunch or dinner. All of us were on call 24/7. Before, I never seemed to mind but today it was a hassle simply trying to find the easiest way in.

I was ushered in as soon as they saw me. All three of them – Aro, Caius and Marcus – were waiting for me. Though Aro was the only one smiling at my approach. Then again, he was always smiling.

"Good evening, Bella," he greeted with a warm smile. Only I knew it to be fake. Any ignorant observer would think we were close friends.

"You wanted to see me," I cut right to it.

"Yes. There is a new assignment for you." I took a breath. "In New York."

"Oh?"

"We have all the information here for you," Jane came up from behind me, handing me a USB of 16 GB. I took it wordlessly and she retrieved to stand in the backgrounds.

"Go through it on the plane. There is a packed bag of everything you may need for the assignment. There is another bag with additional items waiting for when you've completed… but it's all on the USB drive." I nodded. "Your flight is in two hours. I suggest you leave immediately, traffic is pretty rough. Once you're there, you have four hours before you flight back. The ticket is already on the scene. Are you ready?"

I opened my mouth to say something on the negative but thought better of it, instead coming up with the best response possible.

"Yes."

* * *

**AN: Well holy shit! This has to make up for the fact that I haven't updated in a shitload of time.  
Again, sorry for any remaining mistakes. I try to get everyone but sadly, no one's perfect. However, if there are many, tell me at which part(s) and I will immediately correct them the best way possible. **


	13. Burn It To The Ground

_**Burn it to the ground **_

The fasten seatbelts sigh went off and I was immediately out of my chair, bringing with me the duffle bag I had been given at the headquarters. It still felt lame to think that word.

The bathroom was smaller than I thought. I don't make it a habit to leave my seat anytime during a flight.

I put the bag on the sink, tearing my sweats off to find what they had packed for me. A pair of black stretch jeggings that hugged my legs. A pair of black bamboo socks – I swear, it's the softest kind on the whole fucking planet.

Black boots that reached half-way up my calf – wedge in the middle and two buckles, one at the top and another at the bottom. A slight heel of half an inch and a zipper that held no function.

A navy blue tank laid next and a pleather jacket. I pushed my old clothes into the bag and my sneakers. A loud knock came on the door. I barely contained a growl and punched the door back. I heard a loud gasp and smirked.

Turning back to the mirror, I removed the bag, starting the water to wash my face. The cold felt nice against my heated face. Turbulence shook the plane and I was crashed back into the wall.

Waiting for my heart to get back into a regular rhythm, I started applying mascara, along with eyeliner. Finding my smoky eyes acceptable for a plane bathroom, I was done. I zipped up the duffle bag and got out of the bathroom.

Sitting down, I pulled out the mini laptop and pushed in the USB, catching up on my assignment.

oOo

Wanting to beat my own score – I was all business now – I was one of the first out of my seats and off the plane. It took me seven minutes reaching the parking lot and finding the black sedan with tinted windows. I dump my bag on the way, throwing it into the trash nonchalantly. Crouching, I pull the key out of the exhaust pipe and pop the trunk.

There is a light-weight black backpack inside along with a small plastic container to its right. I don't open either before I'm safely inside the car. There was also a messy messenger bag stocked with everything I would need to get back once my assignment was over but there was no need to look through that now.

The plastic contains a cold 45 caliber along with a cartridge and discrete holster. I place the latter at the small of my back before pushing the ammo inside the gun and then the gun inside the backpack. I couldn't take any risk.

I start the car and drive off – for once keeping to the speed limit; I couldn't get pulled over. It's a long ride to the city, or at least it feels that way. As the streets become more and more deserted, I reach for the handicap permit inside the glove compartment before parking, just seventy yards from my target.

I see my entry – a maintenance door to the left of the subway station. But it's still too early. I'll have to wait one hour and sixteen minutes before I have my twenty-seven minutes inside, including the exit strategy. The time is ridiculous but not impossible.

Sometimes I think they make the targets harder and harder and the timestamp shorter and shorter just to test us, not really caring whether or not we get caught.

Fortunately for me, I don't get caught.

oOo

It's time.

I jump out of the car and walk with brisk steps across the street. The door buckles easily to my will and I make my way down the steps.

The air was colder than I thought. I felt the hair stand on my arms and didn't settle until I was down the last step. I took two seconds to take a deep breath before continuing down my right. After another turn, this time to the left, there was a 444 feet long tunnel.

Everywhere around me, I heard the familiar swoosh as the trains passed by above. The tips of my fingers prickled and I knew the familiar rush of adrenaline wasn't far away. At the thought if that, my feet carried me faster. I straightened up my posture and stopped thinking of everything that could be a distraction.

I came to the end of the tunnel to a two-inch thick metallic door. Since the room behind was currently used for… nothing…. I wasn't expecting it to be locked. Shutting it, the sound echoed through the square room, and I was left in total darkness.

Finding the switch, the room illuminated around me. I quickly walked to a table conveniently placed down my left and dropped the backpack onto it with a thump. I couldn't risk the added weight when I proceeded with the assignment.

I tore the zipper open and grabbed the 45 caliber Colt and pushed it into the holster discretely placed at the small of my back, shielded from view by my cotton top and pleather jacket. I only had the ammo which was already inside, containing twelve bullets, but I wasn't planning on using it. Guns aren't my solution but a back-up if I were to be in desperate need.

I moved on and fastened two plastic tubes which – if you cracked them – surged with light, on the outside of my right thigh. The only reason I was doing this now and possible spoiling time was by the fact I would have drawn too much unwanted attention had I gone outside with light sticks strapped to my thigh.

The next item, a black blade, smooth along the length, which snapped into the handle. I bent down and pushed the surprisingly light object into my boot. The cold metal pushed into my ankle but it wasn't too uncomfortable. This was the knife I only used on assignments. It was light enough it wouldn't weigh me down but it was too large to use on a regular basis in flats or converse.

Standing up and sighing, I brought out two metallic discs, almost half an inch thick. To the naked eye, they were nothing but scrap but when I pressed the discrete button in the center, four razor-sharp blades shot out. Then the devices started to blink the sharpest baby blue light. I looked up at the ceiling and bended my knees to get leverage. I let the metallic sphere in my right hand go. It surged with a whisk through the air and crashed into the concrete. I then pushed the other sphere up the same way but two meters away. It as well stuck to the ceiling like it had been glued there.

I whipped my head around, searching for a place to take cover. I ran across the room in a heartbeat, knocking over a table in the process and as soon as I crashed behind, a small beep echoed in the room, followed by a loud bang. The ceiling crumbled and dust swirled around like fog.

I waited for the last pieced of plaster to hit the floor before sitting up on my knees, taking a look around. The two-inch circle had almost blown off the entire ceiling. There was dust and concrete all over the floor. I raced to the bag and pulled out a mask. Placing it over my mouth and eyes, I waited for the dust to clear before moving from the wall. I went to stand underneath the hole and gazed up.

It was dark. And moist. I could hear a water drop. Most of the dust had settled. I removed the mask and threw it onto the floor. I dragged the cheap piece of table across the room and placed it to the wall, then went to the other side and recoiled for spring. I jumped up on the top, placed my jumping foot on the wall and then pushed myself up. I caught hold of the side and dangled for a second before swinging to the side and my thigh was over the edge.

I exhaled as I stood up, watching my way. It was a part of the subway. Though the rails I stood on were too old to be used now. I glanced down to my right, trying to peer through the darkness. I did the same to my left but with no success. The only light came from down the hole; the lamps that hadn't been blasted away. I grabbed at the plastic tube on my thigh. I broke it and shook until a screaming orange tint blasted from the plastic.

I started down my right. I cracked my neck and felt the tension leave my body. I frowned at the rat which ran two feet ahead of me on the railing.

I walked for almost five minutes before hearing something. I cocked my head to the side and watched how a corner visualized in front of me. I crept up towards it and had half my head around the edge when a _whoosh_ came and the train passed me by an inch. I yanked away and fell back to the concrete wall.

I took several deep and calming breaths and the train passed. I listened for another but got nothing. The railing I had been following went across the newer one and disappeared into another tunnel of darkness. I crossed the path and peered down my left. The tunnel curved but I knew I heard faint voices.

I held the tube high above my head and continued.

oOo

My arms groaned in protest and I thought I wouldn't be able to but finally, the block moved and I could push it to the side. I leaned back against the wall before climbing the last steps and sat down on the cement floor.

The room wasn't large but it would suffice for the time being. I dropped the light down the hole before making my way to the door. It opened easily and I started my way up three flights of stairs.

The office wasn't hard to find. First on the left was a more upscale type of office. The wall had been replaced by frosted windows, along with the same type of door. I tried the knob but it wouldn't budge. If only I came prepared for this. Oh wait, I did.

Sinking to my knees, I pulled out two metallic objects, one resembling a mini scalpel while the other… it's just a flat metal thing that bent at the end. It barely took a minute. Must be a new record.

I entered the room and quietly shut the door behind me. I knew no one else was in the building except for the night guard whom never left his place as he watched reruns of All My Children. But it doesn't hurt to be discrete.

I started at the desk, rummaging through drawers, doors, and unlocked another lock. When the desk didn't satisfy me, I made my way to the filing cabinet. I sighed at the sight that was literally a million papers, stacked in an order I didn't know. Starting at the bottom, I knew I wouldn't be able to finish this tonight. This couldn't be right. Something's wrong, I knew, but didn't know what to do about.

The nagging feeling didn't leave and it threatened to tear a hole at the base of my neck if I didn't stop scratching an itch that wasn't even there.

Running my hand through my hair for the fifteenth time and sighing for the thousandth time that night, I sat down on the floor, my knees just about to give out when the sound of complication emerged.

"Yes I have them right here."

I jerk my head up in surprise but stay in a half crouch. The monotone voice grew louder and I saw the tip of his feet as he walked by the frosted glass. My anger flared. There was not supposed to be anyone in the building. The Volturi spend millions and countless hours researching and paying people off to stay away and I'm reduced to this?

I pull out my new phone and dial, letting the Bluetooth connect to my earpiece. It only took one ring before someone picked up.

"Yes?"

"There's a civilian in the building," I whisper, listening for signs as to whether or not the man could hear me.

"Is he in the room with you?"

"Do you really think I would call if he was in the room with me?" I mentally curse my heightened tone. "You told me there wouldn't be anyone here." Jane sighed but I know she loves this.

"I wasn't aware."

"Not aware? Are you an amateur? This could compromise the whole situation."

"Do not speak to me that way! Someone must have changed their schedule." I wait for more but there is nothing.

"And?"

"And what?"

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"

"Take care of it."

"What?"

"Take care of it. It's a simple case of he was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Your solution is to kill him."

"Sure. He's just one person. This is what you've trained for." Those last words nearly knocked me over but I couldn't care about that now.

"I want to talk to Aro."

"Aro is… indisposed at the moment. But I'll be sure to give him the update." I was about to say something else but then there was just a flat tone.

She hung up on me. I can't believe she hung up on me. That little bitch! She must have known about this. She did it on purpose. She needs me to fail to be the favorite. Like I would ever strive to be the favorite amongst psychopaths.

Fucking crazy people!

I didn't want things to come down to this but… I slowly stood up and unhooked my gun from its holster, keeping it low as I take quiet steps toward the door. Turning the knob, I pulled the mahogany and glass mixture towards me, barely breaking half an inch.

I see the man in flashes. He kept the office door open and I saw how he walked around the room, going to and from the desk in rapid movement, as if he was looking for something. He spoke quietly, too quiet for me to overhear. There was no frosted glass at his office. I kept my gun at my side and moved across the hall, pushing back against the wall, never missing a beat.

I straighten up, craning my neck for a sight of the man. I hear his mumbled speech. A file cabinet closes. The drawer of a desk opens. Papers are shuffled around. Shoes drag across the carpet. The shift of a cell phone as it's been flipped close.

The man comes closer to the door. I hear his every movement. I see the door open into the room. I retrieve my hand, keeping it bent at the elbow. The man comes out and I sling the but of the gun into his left eye.

The man turn away from me in pain and I put the gun to the back of his head. The man stops his groans and struggles.

"Close your eyes," I say in the first accent I can think of: Irish. I silently curse my unoriginality. The man tries to turn around but I press the gun more firmly against his head.

"Do it!"

"Okay! Okay." I see the muscles of his face clench together. "What do you want?" he says, breathing hard, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I want you to keep your fucking eyes shut."

"Why are you doing this?" I ignore his question.

"What are you doing here?" When he doesn't answer, I pull the safety. I feel him tense and cower.

"Please don't shoot me."

"Then answer my question."

"I needed to pick up some papers."

"Little early for that isn't it? Could have waited until morning." It was barely three a.m.

"I got a call."

"From who?"

"I don't know."

"Why would you come here at three in the morning for someone you don't even know?"

"He said-" I cock my head and narrow my eyes.

"Yes?"

"He said someone would break in tonight for some papers." My heart stop for two seconds before I even think about responding. "Obviously he was right." I glance down to the floor where scattered papers lay in disarray.

"Are those the papers?" He doesn't answer. "On the floor! Are those the papers?" He trembles.

"Yes!" I glance behind me at the office number and then to the one in front of me. 169 A and 169 B. Dammit Jane!

"Pick them up." The man shrunk to his knees and started collecting. I stayed standing, still holding the gun pointed at his head.

This was not what I had signed on for. Not that I signed on for any of this. I couldn't kill someone just like that. A civilian. There would be too much media coverage. Too many people wanting to know who killed John Doe and ruined a family hero or whatever bullshit the guy does on his days off.

He stood and held the documents back to me. I took the folder quickly, holding it up to see a label or anything scribbled on the front. I wasn't paying attention. Forever I would look at this as my first and only mistake.

The guy turned too fast for me to understand what he was doing. His eyes widened as he saw me and made for the gun. He grabbed my hand and shoved it into the wall. Something cracked and the gun fell to the floor. I brought up my leg and kicked him square in the chest. The guy goes down hard and I hear the breath being knocked out of him. I struggle to take a step back but he pushes one of his feet in between mine and I go down on my side. I try to brace myself with my right hand, only then realizing I can't move it without a sharp pain running through the bones.

I roll over to the other side and reach out my hand for the gun. The guy grabs my ankle and tries to pull me back. I kick, aiming for his head. Barely grazing the gun with my fingertips, I pull away from it, turn onto my back and push my right foot off the ground and hit the guy in his left temple. His head hits the wall with a hard thud. While he's confused, I turn again and make a move for the gun. I grab it with my left hand and roll onto my back. The guy had pushed himself off the floor and before I know it, a shot echoes through the building.

Blood splatter over my face. The guy lands on top of me and I struggle to get him off with just one hand. The body lies on the floor while a large red puddle starts to form around him. I take a breath before quickly getting up on my feet. I push the gun back into its holster and grab for the papers before they become spoiled by the blood.

I hurry out the same way I came, finding my way back to the basement. Once there, I stop to lean against a wall, trying to breathe correctly.

The adrenaline is gone but my hands still tremble and my heart is still beating erratically. I find this strange. It was self-defense. He could have killed me had he wanted to; could have grabbed the gun and shot me. I just threatened his life, it was a reasonable explanation.

But what's worse is of how I really feel. I thought I would be more afraid… that I would _feel_ more. I'm not sad that guy is gone. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not filled with remorse. I don't have an urge to want to go back in time and undo what I just did.

I feel nothing. And that scares the shit out of me.

Before I drop into melancholy too far, I make my legs carry me a different path than which I came in. But this time, I walk past the steps until I find a ladder. I make my way up; glad I'm wearing some kind of gloves – even if they are fingerless.

I come out of the ground – literally. The road is empty. No cars or passerby. I move the metallic cinderblock back to its place before continuing down there road where the black sedan is waiting for me, keys resting just two inches into the exhaust pipe.

I never took my eyes off what was a head of me, until I reached the airport. I parked in the far back and sat still for a few seconds. Glancing up, I saw the blood still on my white porcelain face. I frantically searched the glove compartment until I found rose scented wipes. I didn't have time to care that I would smell like a hooker, my flight left in just over an hour.

Popping the trunk, I grabbed my already packed messenger bag and slung it over my left shoulder, careful not to touch anything with my right hand. It stung like a bitch but I forced myself not to stop to actually think about anything yet.

I retrieved the papers from the passenger side and shove them carefully into the bag before sitting down lightly on the trunk. Bending down, I took out the knife. The pressure relieved. I then pulled off the holster, along with the gun. I wipe them down thoroughly before taking both weapons and bringing them to the nearest drain at the side of the road. I sat on my knees, pushed the objects deep into the dark abyss before getting back to the car, grabbing the messenger bag, shutting the trunk, locking the car, throwing the keys into the nearest bush and I then walked inside.

oOo

The plane landed with a heavy bump but I barely felt it. I was exhausted. I hadn't been asleep since leaving L.A. But I still couldn't picture falling sleep any time soon.

There was a car waiting for me. I stopped at the sight before picking up two seconds later. There was only one reason a car would be waiting for me. Every other time I got home on my own.

The driver opened the door for me and I went inside without a word.

Sitting across from me was Aro. He was balancing a glass of scotch on his knee, talking quietly into a cell phone. Once he spotted me, he hung up and smiled my way.

"Isabella!" I almost winched. He only called me that when I'd done something wrong.

"Aro," I greeted in a quiet tone.

"What is the matter? You look dreadful."

"Just tired."

"You'll be home in no time. But first…" it took me a moment to fully comprehend what he was asking. I blinked several timed as I retrieved the papers from my bag. Handing them over, I felt a huge weight had been lifted from me.

Aro observed the folder and then placed it on the seat next to him. I looked out the window and found that we had already started moving. I never felt a thing.

"I heard about what happened from Jane," Aro said after a few minutes of silence. I turned to look at him. "Wires get crossed."

"Sure."

"As long as the situation has been taken care of, no harm done. I assume it's taken care of?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful." Aro smiled but I couldn't even pretend to care about upholding any sort of charade. "So…" I raised a brow. "How was Washington?"

"It was fine."

"Not too rainy, I hope."

"Not at all."

"Good. Are you still upset with me for making you go?"

"No."

"Wonderful. I wouldn't want to be on your bad side, Isabella." I nodded, though not actually listening. "There is another reason I came to get you myself tonight."

"Oh?"

"About you involvement with Edward Cullen." I didn't miss beat.

"There is no involvement."

"But you've known him for years, correct?"

"Yes."

"And I understand that your brother, Jasper, is quite a good friend of his too?"

"Yes."

"Then there is an involvement."

"What is it that you're asking of me?"

"Cullen industries are a posing threat to national and Volturi security."

"I'm not sure I see that."

"Did you not read the papers you were given."

"Yes."

"Then I fail to see what you fail to see."

"If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it this past week."

"This is far bigger than you, Isabella."

"Why? I'm one of Volturi," you will never know how painful it was to say that, "Hurt one of us, they hurt all of us, isn't that right?"

"Right?"

"And you want my honest opinion?"

"Of course."

"Reading everything, surveying the material, I fail to see any imminent threat. Cullen Industries is a mirrored image if Volturi in the basic aspects. This isn't about national threat. This is about who has the most power and that is the most pathetic reason to break out a war."

I spoke up to Aro. I hadn't done that since Russia… right before they gave me shock treatments as punishment. But I needed to know if I was completely dead inside. I couldn't be like them. I couldn't be this cold and heartless killer who would pull the trigger at anyone.

Aro sat back in his seat and made no move to maintain eye contact. Drinking the last of his scotch, he carefully sat the glass down and finally turned to face me.

"I've always found you to be crude, Isabella. You're loudmouthed, defiant and have been a pain in my ass ever since we found you in that bar. But you are nothing if not honest. And that is something I can admire, no matter the difference of opinions."

"Thank you?" I asked, more than told, in confusion.

"I won't always be happy with what you have to say but… I admire that you have what it takes to stand up for what you truly believe in even to someone in a position like me." The car stopped and I grabbed hold of my bag, ready to leave. "I'll see you when I see you, Bella." I nodded and stepped out. As soon as I shut the door, the car sped off at an alarming rate.

I walked inside quickly, making a beeline for the elevator, not even saying hello to the doorman, something I've always pride myself on doing before. I may on occasion kill a person but at least I still say hello to my doorman. Fuck, I need help.

Walking inside, I barely understood my own actions. I knew I dropped the keys but in hindsight, I don't understand how they could have ended up in the bowl on the first try. Another thing, apparently, I kicked my clothes off one by one before reaching the bedroom. Normally this wouldn't be a problem but it would have been nice to actually have changed into something and not fall asleep in only my panties.

The duffle bag was still there at the edge of the bed; zipper open but still packet. But for now, I sufficed in gently placing the bag on the floor before dropping onto the mattress like a sack of potatoes. It was like falling onto a cloud. The softness could not be described. The sheets felt unbelievably light – like silk – and I couldn't fathom the feeling when I slipped between them, my eyes closing immediately.

* * *

**AN: Though shorter than previous chapter, I wrote this in just one day and actually felt okay with it when I finished. Another one on the way! **


	14. I Love Rock And Roll

_**I Love Rock And Roll **_

There is a sliver of light streaming in from a crack in the stone wall. The shade in a heap on the floor had not moved since it was dropped there almost ten minutes ago. The chloroform is wearing off and I watch with both fascination and horror how the man wakes up into a groggy and disoriented state of mind.

"Wha…? Where am I?" The man grows wary with a lack of response. He tries to sit up on his knees but his mind won't cooperate and so he falls back down on his side, groaning as he does.

The picture freezes and the fluorescents come on, making my eyes water from strain. Blinking and pushing my thumb and index finger onto my eyelids, I tried to shake off any remaining traces of exhaustion. My wrist was still hurting but it was a strain at worse. A whole week has gone by. A whole week since I've been back in sunny California. One week since I last saw Edward. I sound like a high schooler dreaming of her crush but Edward's always had that effect on me. Not even years could take that away apparently.

Jane stretches out her back, head held high. I bring my right hand up and absentmindedly bite the thumb nail. Aro comes up the room once more and stands in front of us. I was surprised by his appearance since he rarely made one if it wasn't to scold us.

"Who is it?" I ask, bringing away my hand to see Jane smile smugly. She glances at me quickly.

"An excellent question Bella." Her smile fades fast and a frown takes its place. "His name is Porter Jacobs. He was a court judge as well as a spokesman for several multimillion dollar charity organizations."

"He doesn't seem to pose a threat," Jane pipes in. This time it's my turn to smirk.

"Be quiet Jane," Aro chastised. She slumped back and shot me a death glare. I quirked a quick brow at her before turning my attention back to Aro.

"Officially," Aro recovered, "this man is a saint. But we all know the holier they are, they more they have to hide." The frozen video disappears and a blue screen replaces its absence before a picture of a woman lying on the floor in a puddle of what appeared to be her own blood is laid out in front of us. "This is Jane Doe. She was found dead in El Paso two years ago. She was stabbed in the back by a three millimeter blade."

Both Jane and I waited for more but Aro wasn't talking. Finally I'd had enough.

"Did the judge kill her?"

"Oh most definitely," he answered. "Jane here was on her way to the police to tell them a gripping tale of how this judge," an aging man smiled alongside an equally aging woman, three thirty-something women and two young children under the age of ten appeared in front of us, "was the front man of a prostitution ring."

I looked at the family photograph more clearly. They were all standing in the backyard with a white wooden mansion in the background. The grass had been neatly cut and removed of any leafs. They were all standing with the exceptions of the children who weren't paying too close attention to the camera.

"A prostitution ring?" Jane had apparently given up on all means of verbal communication and was sitting with her arms crossed like a tantrum throwing five year old.

"Yes. Unfortunately Jane wasn't fast enough."

"Has he been caught?"

Aro sighed. "Briefly, as seen in the video. However, the police have no idea of either this woman's identification or the hidden pleasures of Mr. Jacobs. And as of a month after this crime had been committed, Mr. Jacobs's wife was found murdered inside their heavily guarded mansion in the Hollywood hills." Another slide was presented.

The aging woman from the picture was lying face down on a four-poster bed. Pants pushed down to her ankles and top ripped apart at the back, deep red gashes embedded themselves into her skin. Blood had pooled around, marking how brutal the slaying had been.

"She was sexually assaulted?"

"No. The "official" story is Mr. Jacobs returning home from a day of work to hear the screams of his wife coming from the second floor. He runs upstairs to find her in this state. This leads the police to believe the perpetrator was about to rape Mrs. Jacobs when Mr. Jacobs comes home and interrupts. The perpetrator feels panic and starts massacring Mrs. Jacobs back before making a quick escape." Aro takes a sip of water. "We caught up with him. But right after the video was shot and the interrogation officer left him alone for a moment, Mr. Jacobs managed to escape. And then he faked his death." New pictures surfaced of the three grown women crying with the same two children – now looking somber as they watch a coffin being lowered into the ground.

"We too were fooled in thinking Mr. Jacobs had passed on but then come last Saturday. A possible sighting in South America." A picture overlooking metal-roofed beige brick buildings with a red circle on a being in the far left corner. The shot it gravely at best. My mind already started planning. "I want the two of you to work together in locating the Judge if it is indeed him in this picture."

Jane and I quickly face each other before turning to Aro.

"What?" she asked in her nasal voice that was currently filled with disgust. "I'm not going with _her_.

"You will do as you're instructed."

"I really must insist," I interrupted. "I work very well alone. Has there been any complaints?" Jane gasped and looked at me.

"What makes you think you were the one going?" I shake my head while licking my lips, finding this ridiculous.

"My apologies Jane. Of course it could have been you." My voice was dead and conveying exactly what I thought of her. She prepared to rebuttal but Aro held up his hands to stop out quarrel.

"Enough. You two can't work together. I want that to change. You don't have to like each other but you will work together in finding out whom that man is." He points to the screen.

I couldn't think of anything more horrifying than spending any time longer than an hour with Jane. And have to work with her? Does she even have any fighting skills? Can she even hold a gun? Does she know anything on basic survival? From theory, no doubt but of all the time I've been with the Volturi I've never heard of Jane going out into a fight.

I'm so fucked.

oOo

I arrive back at my apartment little over four on the afternoon. My shoulders ached. My stomach was growling. Emmett is going to kill me one day. I'll keel over from a heart attack at age twenty-four. I just know it.

The red light was blinking on my answering machine. I pushed the button but there was no voice. Then came the click of disconnection. The two seconds the message – or lack thereof – confused me. Then it hit me.

I searched the couch cushions for my phone and brought it out to find that there had been a string of withheld numbers delivering empty messages as well. Then, as if knowing I was there, the phone started to buzz. I involuntarily scrunch my brows as I drag my thumb down the screen and hold it up to my ear.

"Took you long enough." I sit back, running my index finger nail over a tear in my bottom lip. My elbow leans on the back of the couch as I stay silent, wanting him to speak. His voice is soothing. "Bells?"

"Yes?"

"Thought you'd hung up on me." A small smile.

"You know I'm more direct approach."

"So where have you been all day?" I look down to search for nonexistent tears on my shorts.

"I was busy." There's a small pause.

"It's good to hear you," he says quietly, almost as if he's talking to himself. I nod.

"Mhm."

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I say something really corny?" The edges of my lips twitch.

"Just this once."

"I miss you." My eyes burn and I run a hand through my hair so I have something to do. Taking a deep breath proved an amazing challenge.

"I um… I'm going away for a while."

"How long?" His voice was more serious now.

"I'm not sure. Could be a few days. Maybe longer."

"A week?"

"Possibly."

"I'd ask where you were going but…"

"You wouldn't want to know."

"And you wouldn't say," he continued.

"Mhm." I felt a strange lump in my throat. It didn't suffocate me but I felt almost emotional. What a fucked up time to want to cry. "We shouldn't talk…"

"Can we just… not hang up right now?" I sighed deeply, feeling a migraine at the back of my head, approaching like a thunderstorm. Tomorrow would be excruciating.

"What do you want to talk about?" I heard something ruffle at his end.

"I need to say something."

"Yes?"

"But I don't think I should."

"So don't."

"But I want to."

"So do."

"But I shouldn't."

"Then I'm telling you not to. If it's so important you can tell me another time."

"Okay." He sounded defeated and I couldn't blame him. "Where are you going?" I shook my head absentmindedly and stood up, facing the sliding doors.

"I thought you were going to ask."

"I need to know." There was a light knock from the door. I looked behind me towards it, knowing who would be standing there, waiting to be let in for an evening of pizza, alcohol and a horror movie marathon.

"Someplace warm," I tell him quietly before hanging up and opening the front door. Emmett smiles widely at me and holds up a plastic bag of glass bottle clanking together.

"You are in for a night to remember."

oOo

It's barely past midnight as the Night of the Living Dead finish. I remember watching it when I was twelve. Scared the shit out of me. I'm not sure whether it's the slow ominous walking or the end of human civilization realization but I couldn't sleep for a week. I even went so far as to take a knife with me and hide it under my pillow.

"I don't like old stuff," Emmett said, slurring slightly. I've barely had any alcohol in three years and I can still drink him under the table. "But this movie is the shit!" He burst into a fit of giggles. Yes, giggle. As in a sound only a thirteen year old girl with pink princess walls would do. "Come on! Drink!" I rolled my eyes but down the last of my… whatever it was. Strong enough to burn my throat.

"Shall we continue?" Emmett nods vigorously, cheering me with his glass as I wobble over to the DVD player and changed disc to Halloween.

"I fucking love Halloween. That Michael Myers dude is awesome." He looked towards me for confirmation. I stick with nodding and pressing play. The creepy gothic music played to a black background set with a meticulously cut pumpkin burning to the left side of the screen. The camera zooms until the orange squash infiltrates the entire screen and then it's black.

We sit in silence as we watch Dr. Loomis and Nurse who-dies-in-H2O drive towards the asylum. They should have explained this scene more properly. Why would inmates wander about in the night in the rain? The scene befuddled me until I saw the extended TV version.

Of course I jump when Michel's hand comes crashing through the window. I've seen the movie a hundred times. I've been the shade hiding in the shadows and I still jump at ever plot twist in Halloween.

I watch the rest of the move in a daze, drinking until I physically can't anymore, listen to Emmett's somewhat amusing commentary until I can't hear them and then when my body has finally had enough, I fall asleep.

When I wake up I'm in my bed, covers pulled midway up my arms. Feeling disoriented, I sit up and put the back of my hand against my forehead. I'm not wormer than any other day. This was not the day to be immobilized by a hangover. I shouldn't have been drinking last night – or this morning rather.

But the shit's been done and now I'm halfway down limbo and my whole entire body aches with the effort to stay alive. I know the basics, of course. Everyone at Volturi has gone through medical training. Nothing fancy. But we can make an IV drip, sow together a relatively deep wound and stop a bleeding. Ironically enough, it's the only "test" I paid full attention on. Survival instincts told me I had to listen carefully.

I shield my eyes as I hurry across the living room, into the kitchen to find a nice cold water bottle, nestled between butter and ketchup. I take small sips, not wanting to overthrow my stomach. Then again, maybe I should get it out.

I find my way into the bathroom even with my eyes covered. The room is cold, icy. It's more than welcoming. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I cringe at the sight. Dark circles under my bloodshot eyes. My skin is greasy. I can practically feel my pores clogging up. My stomach churn and I all but fall to my knees, just barely having time to get the seat up before my entire stomach content is poured into the ceramic bowl.

I stay in the there for over half an hour. I lay with my back to the tiled floor, head turned to the side. My stomach settles but every time I move, it's an illusion and I feel nauseous again. Closing my eyes helped. I try not to let my head be filled with any irritating song that inevitably finds its way in there at a time of silence. I'm not successful. But it's the old spice commercial dialogue that invades my mind. I groan that turns into a mock sob. My brain hates me.

There's a ring in the far back of my mind but I don't dare investigate if it's my mind playing tricks or someone actually calling.

When my stomach started tightening instead of churning in a sign of hunger, I sit up on my knees. When that prevails, with the use of the sink, I heave myself up and start a shower immediately. The water cascades down my back, ticking me in the process. My head pounds but I'll live. Probably.

I do the works. Shave in ever place that needs shaving, scrub wherever I find a patch of skin and rinse wherever a ball of suds trails down. With towel-dried hair, freshly plucked eyebrows and two Tylenols swimming down my throat my bony ass carried me back into my bedroom. I found a black and olive green duffle bag in the far right corner of my closet. It was small enough to get onto the plane but big enough not to cause any red flags.

The bag deflated when unzipped and it took two pairs of cargo pants to make it stay afloat. Non transparent black leggings join the pants, as does half a dozen rubber bands, tooth brush, tooth paste, two weeks' worth of underwear, socks for a half, deodorant and mp3 charger.

I count off the items as I go, trying to figure out what I'm forgetting. I always forget shit going and returning.

Shirts!

Probably too many basic black and white tank tops join the growing pile of garments. I bring a few loose t-shirts as well, knowing full well we could get stuck there over a month. If I were going by myself I'd have it done in less than a week.

After finished inventory for the third time, I zip the bag and place cash, fake passport and plane ticket in the outer zipper pocket.

My towel drops to the ground as I slip on a pair of grey jeans that say extreme stretch but, wow, they're really full of shit. At least I found a loose fitted –albeit thin – dark purple tank-top to go along. I caught site of myself in the mirror and noticed the lacy sides of my bra was showing but decided I didn't have the luxury of caring about "exposure". At least it was black.

The phone rang. I was more alert now and scurried to the other side of the apartment in time to answer the third ring.

"Yes?" A part of me wished it had been Edward calling me again. It wasn't.

"Isabella," I involuntarily cringed. "I was afraid you were ignoring my calls."

"I was in the shower."

"A car will be by to pick you up in twenty minute. Don't let it idle." The phone hung dry on the other line. I turned it off, knowing I wouldn't be bringing it with me on my trip. I did however need my mp3 that – in a surprisingly small apartment – seemed to have gotten lost. I spent almost ten minutes trying to find it only to have to rush to find the flat brown gladiator shoes with gold-ish studs along the rims and throw them on. A pair of flat black wedge boots ending a few inches shy of my knees joins the pile.

I barely remembered to lock the door and leave the key with the doorman. The car pulled up against the sidewalk. I took my time walking over there, threw the bag into the trunk before taking my place. Jane was already there. I rolled my eyes at her attire.

She'd gone Goth, it seemed. Black second-skin pants, even tighter boots with a dangerously high heel, long-sleeved black shirt with holes for the thumbs to go through and as always; hair pulled back in a tight librarian bun.

"You ready?" I asked only partially teasing. She sniffed at me and held her head high, looking out the window. My brows raised in amusement as I did the same though I didn't look like I had a broom shoved up my ass while doing it.

We arrived at LAX when it's at its fullest. The hall is buzzing with news of new arrivals and late departures. We don't even glance at the board but take the right and start down a long hallways of shops on either side, charging a ridiculous amount of money for items not even worthy a double figure.

She never said a word but I knew Jane was following my lead, always staying two steps behind. This would not end well. I couldn't understand Aro's decision to have me bring her along. Or could I?

Had I been that _off_ since returning from Forks? That's ridiculous. Unless he can read my mind I've been nothing but excellent. I fucking killed a man. That's not warning signs.

Fifteen minutes till boarding. Jane takes a seat like an obedient poodle with her face towards the huge glass windows covering the entire wall. I slipped the thick strap up my shoulder and started to walk away. I hadn't had time to eat anything and I was not going on a plane hungry and one-hundred percent sober.

"Where are you going?" I quickly sigh, roll my eyes and turn around.

"To get food and a drink and maybe some über trashy magazines I hate everyone else for reading but save the hypocrisy for myself."

"You can't just leave. We're on a mission." I quickly looked around but no one noticed. My mouth set in a half condescending half annoyed smile.

"Not until we're on that plane," I reminded. "And just to get one thing clear; nothing you say will ever make me follow. Got that? Your words are worth less than shit to me. Now either come with me to eat or sit here until I return." She opens her mouth, probably to tell me off but decides against it and turned to watching the outside. I'm disappointed.

The line to, well, any decent "restaurant" are too long to even bother with. Sometimes I hate people. I might even wish a few of them dead.

I slip into a mini market and try not to let the tick tock of my inner clock hasten my decisions.

A portion cup of Froot Loots idled on a green metallic stand. I snatched the last cup towards me and watch as a kid to me left gave me a look of disappointment and hurt. I made a face towards him and walked away, determined not to feel bad because the kid wasn't fast enough.

There was a whole wall dedicated to all things Snapple. A wall might have been an exaggeration but at least four sets of open fridge compartments. While the Sweat Tea intrigued me – though I had no idea what it was – Pink Lemonade has always been a personal favorite. The glass bottle chilled my hand as I weighed my other provision options.

Suddenly, I felt a presence beside me.

Looking down to my left, I saw Jane watching the Snapple's with confused eyes.

"You know it's not healthy, right?" I looked at the bottle in my hand. The illusion of "no added sugar" appealed to anyone who knew above the average Tom, Dick and Harry that you can't make juice, lemonade or any kind of drink containing any traces of fruit without sugar since fruits contain their own individual sets of sugar levels.

"I know," I replied and stepped away. "I don't buy it for health reasons."

"You shouldn't have so much sugar. It increases blood pressure and clogs the arteries." I roll my eyes. She sounds like Renée.

"I like the taste," I shoot back with lightly clenched teeth. As I grasp an unusually shaped water bottle, my hands grow full and I'll never get satiated on this alone. "What time is it?" Jane looks down at her arm.

"Nine minutes left." I try grasping a ten ounce Turkish yoghurt container but my usually large hands fail my request. In a fit of frustration, I chug the water bottle and Snapple towards Jane who barely catch them before they fall to the floor. She gives me a look which I ignore while getting my yoghurt. And just to be the annoying self that I am, I get another cup of portion cereal, this time brain flakes.

oOo

I incline my seat back, wanting to relax for a few minutes before my heart jumps out of my chest.

"Maybe I wanted the window seat," Jane grumbled.

"Maybe I won't hesitate to ditch you the moment we arrive in Rio," I whispered, feeling my shoulders tense and relax in an untimely fashion.

"You wouldn't do that." She didn't sound sure. I tried not to smirk.

"How would you know what I would or wouldn't do?" There's a ding above us. My eyes snap open, resting on the fasten seatbelt sign. And so it begins.

* * *

**AN: I had loads of fun writing this chapter. This was my second rewrite. Fortunately I'd barely covered a page before but this opening made the story feel slightly ominous again. I want to go darker. Since autumn is depressingly upon us, I'm feeling bitchier than the rest of the year and therefore want more sick and twisted story telling times. **

**And if you haven't seen the original Halloween, do. There's nothing like it. Honestly. **


	15. Enter Sandman

_**Enter Sandman**_

Pretend you're an idiot and hear this for the first time; it's hot in Brazil.

Its bad enough I've been in a horrid food coma that did not result the way that I wanted it, but now I'm in a country I've never visited before, someplace I don't feel comfortable and it's like a fucking sauna. And it's not that it's just warm hot, it's humid hot. The kind where as soon as we're off the plane has our shirts plastered to our backs. I can't help a chuckle that takes more effort than desired. Jane shots me a glare once she realized I'm amused by her. She should be used to it by now.

Now we're on our own. I can feel the waves of nervousness emanating off of Jane but she says nothing. I take confident steps outside the airport and towards a Jeep five plots to out left and three plots down. The key's in the exhaust pipe.

A practically invisible black duffle bag hides in the back. I hang over the side to find the GPS I knew was in there. My hands cover warm metallic pieces and slippery garments. And in the far bottom a plastic device with a sunken in screen.

Jane gets into the passenger seat without a word of complain. I don't want to trust it but the heat on my back tells me otherwise. Coming inside, I immediately turn the ignition halfway and the sweet breeze of air-conditioning flows my way.

"Should you be driving?" Jane says with uncharacteristic concern.

"Do you even know how to drive?" I shot back, turning on the GPS to find the coordinates.

"You've been drinking."

"It's a Smirnoff ice. It's not like a down half a bottle of Jack." Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head.

"You're very… different." My fingers stop and I look up.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not usually this… light. Joking. Nice."

"You think I'm nice?" I snort.

"From what you've been before; yes. It's concerning me."

"I'm touched. Now shut your pie hole. I can't have you distract me while I drive under the influence."

We speed off north, going all through town and out. The roads quickly become gravel. The car sways with the unsteady earth. We come to a complex. Or whatever it's called. I stop the Jeep and step onto the dirty ground, watching the city below me. They're the same houses as from the picture, I'm sure of it. They're dirty; the roofs aren't attached and extremely anonymous.

The safe house is thirty yards to my left. With a last glance at the setting sun laid valley, I go for the door. My eyes move over the scene, searching for possible threats and other ways of exiting the premises should an opportunity like that present itself.

There is neither door handle nor lock. Instead I find a plastic latch, opened it and found a one through nine number keys. I pressed the same digits I used to unlock the GPS. The light blinked green three times, then there was a beep and the door swirled to the side. Two additional beeps alerted the Volturi of our entries.

Metallic shutters roll up, revealing dirty stained windows, barely allowing us to look outside, let alone letting anyone else get a view inside. Disturbingly yellow lights blink to life above us. I dumped my duffle bag and the one filed with weapons on a green couch that matched the walls.

I was in a room of considerable size. A kitchenette to my right held counterpace, a fridge with freezer compartment inside, a hotplate and microwave. A corner desk stood with one side in between two windows. One lamp stood idling next to a laptop with no charger in sight. I cocked my head and walked over there, lifted the lid and pressed the power button.

The room was eerily quiet except for Jane's shoveling feet. I shushed her and turned back to the laptop just as a hiss emanated from the computer. There was a flash of light and the screen cracked. Smoke seeped towards the ceiling.

"That's disappointing," I whispered and threw the laptop to the side. The air-conditioning hummed comfortingly above us. I could already feel myself relaxing into the scenery. Just then I caught sight of Jane watching e with narrow eyes. I set my mouth and tensed my muscles.

It wasn't wrong to be curious about who inhabited the cabin-like compartment before us. But Jane suspects something. That's not good. She might go Nancy Drew on me and look into things I couldn't afford to have looked into. But perhaps I should tone down. Keep my answers shot and cutting. Don't speak unless absolutely necessary.

"Theory tells us we should stake out the five-hundred yard perimeter." Jane came out of the only other door – besides the front – in the room. Two sets of bunk beds stood against the long wall to the left of the front door.

"How very text book of you." I mused quietly, determined to ignore her for the better part of this trip. My hands hurriedly unzipped the black duffle bag to find numerous weapons as well as a mini laptop at the bottom.

"We shouldn't linger," she insisted. A small sigh of exasperation hissed out my barely closed lips. "Our mission is to find out who that man in the picture is and bring him back." It was hard not to let out a laugh. She really thought we would bring him back alive. How naïve.

"Yes," I agree. "But there is no timestamp. And anyone "staking the perimeter" before nightfall would be an idiot."

"But they says-"

"I don't work with someone else's ruled. You do what you feel comfortable with and I'm comfortable in the dark where there's less chance of anyone spotting me. Is that clear?"

"You'll get reported," she threatened. I chuckled dryly.

"I know you're dying to become Aro's favorite pet and believe me, the title is all yours. But when it comes to operations, I do my thing and no one – especially me – get's hurt. Is that understood?" She rolled her eyes which I took as a yes. The duffle bag now solemnly filled with guns and knives and various ways of blowing shit up thumped as I threw it into the desk. Sitting down in the chair I started examining the models and shapes, determining which one would accompany me this time.

Two silvery Glock 9m, each in their respective holsters that could either be stuck to our thighs or the smalls of our backs. Two thirty centimeters long hunting knives with black blades, also in holsters. I put those away, knowing we would have no need for them. Did she even know how to fight? Maybe I could get her to stay in the room all trip long.

An ultra thin blade that folded into the handle I knew was just for me. I flipped the black metallic strip out. It made a sound as if I had been sharpening it. It gleamed in the light above me. I can't say I didn't appreciate being thought of.

A silver bladed hunting knife with edges along the top folded out of the handle. I threw it towards Jane who caught it with a small and very uncharacteristic squeak.

"It has a child lock," I mocked her and continued my search.

Spear point throwing knives that couldn't have been more than three millimeters thick came in two sets of five in individual black bags to be strapped on any part of our legs. I almost expected the next items to be Batman throwing blades but alas, more guns. This time a small black revolved with a thick plastic edge to hold.

"Another one for you." I dangled the child-like firearm in her direction. Instead of waiting for me to get bored and throw it at her, Jane quietly stood from her position on the couch, came over and snatched the guy away from me. She looked at it with small pointing eyes.

"Why can't I have one of those?" she jerked her head towards the Glocks.

"Because those are for grown-ups," I mocked, noticing a 9mm semi-automatic pistol small enough to fit in my other boot. A few other nick-knacks complete the Volturi welcoming pack.

Two smoke grenades, circular blades that explode after having the middle button's pressed, two binoculars, skintight gloves and a flat Motorola phone. As I touch, it starts to vibrate. Withheld number.

Flipping it open I flash it quickly to my ear. I wait for the caller to speak.

"I adore that silence." My eyes roll.

"I almost thought you'd fallen off that high horse and hurt yourself." Caius chuckles dryly. It's almost too bad he's so annoyingly heinous otherwise I probably would have been attracted to him. What can I say? Bad boys get to me.

"Clever. I have a message from Aro." Of course he does. Aro always gives messages but it's on the rare occasions like yesterday morning that he gives them himself. Even Jane was surprised when Aro stepped inside the showing room.

"Yes?" I said after he went silent. I saw Jane give me murderous stares from the corner of the room where the bunks beds were. She'd already thrown her shit up on one of the top bunks.

"There's a reason miss perfect tagged a long."

"Other than to possibly ruin the entire operation?" He chuckled again.

"I like your spark. And yes. You're to train her the best you can. This trip is not to take less than a week."

"What?" I bellowed.

"I knew you'd like that," he said lowly. "And don't worry kitten. If by any chance you are able to locate the target ahead of schedule you'll receive an immediate one-way ticket home." The phone hung dry. I growled and turned towards Jane.

"Get changed."

"What? Why?" I swallowed, looking out the window at the almost dark valley.

"Because we're going hunting."

oOo

"When you said hunting, I thought you mean animals." We crept down in-between two houses. The passage way was thin and with open windows above our heads we'd have to be extra careful. Not that Jane understood my words. For the fourth time, I shushed her.

"We are hunting animals." There was an opening which I stuck my head out of. A few men with long oppressive guns shoved over their shoulders crossed the street down ten yards I stuck my head back in, feeling the adrenaline surge. "And they're all in their natural habitat."

Holding up my index and middle finger, I curled them, making sure she understood to follow and not speak until told so. She did… for a while. When we reached the end of the street, there was a patch of trees opposite which followed the men down the way to a square-like rendezvous point.

There was a weak fluorescent light across the way. If they looked over, they would see us and shit would probably be blown.

"What do we do now?" I slapped my hand over her mouth and held up a finger.

"Fucking keep it down," my voice hissed at her. "This isn't a class room. And it's definitely not pretend. Do what I say or you're done." She stared at me, probably a little scared but mostly annoyed. But she didn't say a word. Good girl. "Nod if you understand." She nodded once, keeping it short and cutting at the end.

Letting her go, I shot a glance down at the men in question. They were in a heated but stable conversation. I couldn't hear for sure but the hand gestures signified a topic of whose girlfriend had the biggest tits.

Do guys ever grow out of puberty?

Rolling my eyes, I dash over the street, holding up my hand when I see Jane is about to follow my lead. I jump into the comfortable shadows of nature and gaze down the lane. The guys were completely oblivious to us so I waved my hand. In a street that wasn't wider than a freeway, it should have taken her two point eight seconds – at the very most – to get across but it's was as if she was intentionally slowing down.

"What is wrong with you?" I hissed.

"I'm sorry I'm not as fast as you!" she hissed back. At least she listened to the keeping it down part of my speech.

"Just… keep behind me and for fucks sake don't panic."

"Why would I-"

"There might come a time or several when you feel your heart raise with the thought you've been made. Whatever you do, don't ever reveal your position until you're certain it's been compromised. Its mistakes like that that gets people killed and I'm not going to be one of them."

"Alright."

We started down the shadows. My booted feet melted into the backgrounds, knife in the right and gun in the left. I'd strapped a pack of five throwing blades to my left thigh and a surprise I hadn't revealed back at the complex. There's been a small first aid kit stuck to the bathroom wall. Though well stocked – it was what was behind the metallic box that intrigued me. A false compartment had been made. At least a dozen syringes and small vials not containing anything over ten milliliters. I'd brought a few needles which I stuffed in the right leg calf pocket above my boot when I changed into cargo pants. Two vials of Metyrapone – a hallucinogen. They won't remember a thing.

The terrain brought us further into the patch of nature. But towards the end I had to hunch so I wouldn't be seen over the bushes. I hold up a finger, making Jane stop in her tracks. I work as closely to the ground as I could, my knees pumping into the dirt. When I got close enough, I turned quickly, back against a boulder.

Drawing my knees closer to my chest, I felt for two syringes'. There was rustling of plastic and paper. While mouthing a curse of two I clenched my eyes closed and brought out two packages, as if by closing my eyelids would somehow diminish the sound.

It wasn't enough to catch the men's attention Yet. But opening the packages I heard them draw out their guns. Swallowing, I kept my cool, glancing at Jane to see she wasn't freaking out. She was sitting on her knees in a fairly comfortable position. My head shook discretely. You don't get the luxury of being in a comfortable position at a moment like this. When you get comfortable you stop noticing things. At the moment I had one pointy branch digging its way into the skin of my hip. But do I complain? No.

I threw the paper and plastic to the side, listening for confirmation they've subsided and gone back to their story telling. Thinking about it, I raised a brow at Jane. She scrunched her face, shaking her head. My eyes roll dramatically. I jerk my head backwards, almost hitting myself in the process. Her eyes catch the men and realization hits.

Idiot.

She nodded. I knew they were once again occupied but it was good when she had something to do. Idle minds wander.

A small glass vial pops out from my right upper thigh pocket. I fill each syringe with enough to keep them down for a while. But one had to be immobile or I'd be fucked. Jane wouldn't be help and I'm more than sure they were completely alone in the valley. I jerked my head again, this time wanting Jane to come towards me. She pressed herself to the ground, worming up like a snake. It was a disturbing image.

She keeps her back to the boulder as well, wincing at the uncomfortable position.

"I'll make a noise and one will follow. He'll go down easy but the one who stays is in charge for the night and won't go down without a fight."

"How do you know that?" Her voice was almost too low for me to hear.

"This isn't my first time."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. You'll sit and you'll observe. Under no circumstances are you to make yourself known. If you're made, gat away but _not_ towards the safe house. Lose the guy, find a good place to hide for a few hours and then get back to the house."

"How am I supposed to lose him?" Her eyes pleaded with me to tell her as much as possible in the limited time we had. I sighed, put the syringes in my mouth and pulled out a relatively long bobby pin from my tightly worn bun.

"If he catches you, stick this in his eye. It'll give you thirty seconds at the most. Don't waste it." She looked for me than a bobby pin and a half-ass advice. "You don't have to be fast but be creative. Use your surroundings. Climb onto the roofs, jump across them. Go through the narrowest alleys you can find. Now stay here." I placed one syringe back in my calf pocket while the other was firmly nestled in between my lips. Teeth clammed down now and then so I knew I wouldn't drop it.

My back hit a tree and I was finally able to stand. My knees ached but there wasn't time to concern myself with that. My hands were on fire. I'd have to track down surgical gloves tomorrow.

I kicked a rock, making it soar through the night. The men stopped, charging their guns towards the mini forest. I turned my head, listening for any signs they would follow. When there was nothing but silence, I broke a branch.

"Investigue-o!" (**Check****it****out!**) The bigger of them – to my surprise – look at the smaller with an annoyed face.

"Por que eu?" (**Why****me?**)

"Porque eu disse então! Agora Vá!" (**Because****I****said****so!****Now****go!)**I smirked, having completely misread them.

Humpty dumpty comes with heavy steps. He walks right by Jane as she sits hunched over, clutching the bobby pin tightly. I move away, deeper. Until I'm at a safe distance from skinny I hide behind another tree. Dumpty grunts as I hit another rock. As he comes towards the tree, I round the bark until I'm behind him. Cracking my neck, he barely has time to turn around before the needle is deeply embedded in the soft tissue of his neck.

He tries punching me but his arms fail and his eyes roll back, not being able to focus on anything. Dumpty falls with a thud, almost comically making the smaller rocks on the ground jump with his sudden descent. I leave him there for the moment, determined to get to skinny within the minute.

"Edmundo?" he yells, sitting down on the boulder next to Jane. I see her look up with a disgruntled expression. Don't do it Jane. Keep cool. Don't fucking this up now.

But I couldn't take him there. It's too open. Maybe they have people watching the rooftops. That would be bad. I get back to Humpty Dumpty and kick him hard in the ribs. He grunts before letting it turn into a moan.

Skinny hears the sound and stands, peering into the trees. I hide behind the thickest bark I could find and kick Dumpty again. The gun in my boot digs into the bone and I wince, feeling it loosen from its holster. No time to think about it now though. Skinny was one yard down the path. I just had to be patient.

I do the same as with Dumpty but this time, as I'm rounding the corner skinny hears my approach. The syringe falls from my mouth but luckily doesn't break. I, however, do. Skinny gets the upper hold and uses my arm to crash me into a nearby tree. Another lucky moment since it was skinnier than my pinkie. I hear the wood crack.

Skinny curses at me and starts to point his gun. I grab the front and point it hastily away. Using both hands on the lengths, I take the back side and shoves is hard into his nose. Skinny squeals girlishly and clutch his face. I pick up the needle and embed it into his neck.

Skinny goes down, landing just inches away from Dumpty.

Jane comes up behind me, watching them lie defenselessly on the ground.

"They're not dead, are they?"

"Of course not. You don't ever kill with drugs on a whim. If you're going to kill someone you need to mean it. I'm sure these guys aren't high on the social charts but I can't do it if I don't mean it."

I reach for the plastic handcuffs Jane had with her. She got to carry that and a knife. I wasn't letting her have a gun on her person until I could be sure she wouldn't shoot me.

Not five minutes later both guys were seated on the ground, arms around the same tree as if hugging it. I'd given them smelling salt. They woke up enough to understand words.

"Quem você trabalha?" (**Who****do****you****work****for?**) I directed towards Dumpty who was more alert. I knew they weren't working for Mr. Jacobs if eh in fact was here. But it was a good conversation starter.

"Maldita respiração," (**Fucking****bitch**) he mumbled at me. I tsked my tongue and shook my head. Such language. "Ele vai te matar." (**He****'****ll****kill****you**) I snorted at that unlikely scenario.

"I don't want your boss." His eyes widened at my English. He was too drugged to see my face too clearly.

"You American? What you want?" Jane tapped me on the shoulder with a folded piece of paper. I took it. It was a picture of Porter Jacobs. I was impressed. I didn't have to ask her to bring it.

"I want this man." I held the picture up closely to his face. He squinted his eyes, trying to see it more clearly.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" My temper was rising.

"After a while, everyone starts looking the same to me." He leaned his head against the tree bark, eyes dropping.

"Hey!" He jerked up. Skinny was still passed out. I had a feeling he didn't take too well to the drugs. Not like I can change that now. "I need to know if you have seen this man." I pushed the picture closer and angled his head so the moon could shine some light his way.

His eyes focused long enough for recognition to hit.

"Ah! The funny guy. I've seen him."

"When? Where? What did he want?"

"He ask for papers."

"Money?" Jane asked. I rolled my eyes for the thousandth time that night.

"No," Dumpty explained. His head rolled. He was really out of it. "Papers, you know? Passport, birth certificate, those papers." His eyes rolled now. We were losing him.

"I need you to think back; when did you see him?" He narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular.

"I… I don't… I don't know… A week, I think." I swallowed, feeling both agitated and relieved at the same time. Every bad guy in Rio knew each other. Or at least of one another.

"Has he gotten his papers yet? It's very important that I know." His tongue welled out of his mouth, lulling him to sleep. I shook him by the shirt. "Has he gotten the papers yet?"

"I don't know," he replied with a giggle, looking like a child. "I do protection. I don't do papers."

"They who does?"

"Raul."

"Where can I find Raul?" But Dumpty was gone. His forehead banged into the tree trunk. I rose from my crouch.

"Will they live?" Jane asked, looking too comfortable if they didn't.

"Yes," I broke her façade. "With hangovers for two days."

"What do we do now?"

"We go back to the safe house."

"Shouldn't we-"

"We shouldn't do anything until we get some sleep."

"But I'm not tired," she challenged.

"Well I am," I countered. "Been on a fucking plane for half a day," I muttered while cutting them loose, gathering the plastic handcuffs and walking in the direction of the house.

* * *

**AN: I don't know anything about medications and whatnot. I just wrote something that sounded smart and flowed in the text.  
I had to use two different translation programs so sorry if there is anything wrong. Sadly Google failed me this time. **

**Translations:**  
Investigue-o! – Check it out!  
Por que eu? – Why me?  
Porque eu disse então! Agora Vá! – Because I said so! Now Go!  
Quem você trabalha? – Who do you work for?  
Maldita respiração – Fucking bitch.  
Ele vai te matar. – He'll kill you.


	16. You can't catch me

_**You can't catch me **_

Jane snores.

A lot.

And loudly.

There's this moment when she stops and I think it's gone but then a fucking earthquake comes along and I lie in a fetal position, cringing with my eyes tightly shut. So earplugs and plastic gloves it is. Soon I'll need to make a list.

But if I cranked up the volume enough on my mp3 I didn't hear it. But then I'd be nearly deaf in the morning but considering the alternative it wasn't too bad.

I fell asleep around two am. It was the pebbling effect the ear buds were making under my back that woke me six hours later. Jane wasn't in her cot but I heard the shower running. I was tempted to see if she'd run away but decided against it. Instead I rolled out of bed and Googled the nearest pharmacy.

Two miles west. It would take me an hour there and back, including time at the register. My thoughts wandered towards Jane. Maybe I should leave her with assignments. Maybe she'd throw them in my face and accuse me of treating her like a child. In my defense, she was just a child. Barely sixteen she'd been roped in with the Volturi two years ago. She and Alec – her twin – had been the only survivors in a fire. It was arson.

Being the "pet" had its privileges'. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

The door to the bathroom opened. Jane was dressed in another black ensemble but much airier than yesterday's Goth costume. Maybe she'd decided to loosen up a bit and stop taking notes every time I speak.

"Bathroom's free," she said with a light and childlike tone.

I gathered clothes and went inside. The steam was everywhere. I just knew she'd taken all the hot water. As soon as the stream hit my skin, I had the urge to yelp.

Instead of shoot her in the forehead I use the water as a therapeutic way of tensing up. I'm shaking like a leaf by the time I get all the conditioning out. I pat down my body, taking every drop as fast as I could.

Then as an afterthought, I stand up straight and make for the first aid kit. The metallic box screech as it's opened. There's gauze, band aids, scissors, tape and jackpot; gloves. Two small, two medium and two large.

I pull on underwear quickly, thanking myself that I had enough sense to bring a sports bra. Olive green linen shorts and a black tank top that expose my shoulder blades follow. I pull my hair back and frown at the strands that are too short and fall around my face and back of my neck.

"Come on," I announce coming out the bathroom. Jane looks up from the computer but doesn't say a word and definitely doesn't follow me. I grab the two pouches of throwing blades and stop at the door. "I'm not taking for my health."

"But we can't leave," she says, sounding horrified. The only thing horrified is the way she snores.

"You're only along for experience. So let's get some." I jerk my head towards the front door and watch with monotony as Jane shovels her feet outside.

We walk for ten minutes before finding a relatively secluded place with thicker tree trunks than right by the safe house. I throw on blade into the bark. It sticks like glue with a hollow thud. Turning towards Jane, she's staring at me with wide eyes.

"Repeat," I said, as if speaking to a dog.

Jane attentively takes a knife, wincing as the metal cut into her palm. I rolled my eyes. Rookie mistake holding it too hard. She takes her hand back too far and uses her whole body to throw the blade. Needless to say it soars for a good two meters before suddenly loosing speed and then smack into the treelike it's slapping it.

Jane looks disappointed. "What did I do wrong?"

"You can't use your whole body for leverage. There will come times when all the space you have is an air vent. Again." I handed her one more blade.

Her feet stayed on the ground this time but her arm flailed around her with uncertainty. Despite myself I flinched as she let go, even though I was standing three feet behind her and to her left. But the blade didn't stick. It thumped away like the last one.

An inward groan threatened to expel from me.

This will take precious time I don't have.

oOo

Two hours.

That's how long it took for my patience to run out, along with a gallon of sweat that ruined any chance of me ever using this shirt again.

Jane continued on her own and I had no objections. Instead I found solitude in the shades on a rock the size of a small bear while pulling back soaked strands of hair from my forehead. The weather was excruciating. This is why I hate the sun. It gives heat. And in some places, it doesn't stop with the giving. You start with feeling uncomfortable. Then you perspirate and then it's so horrifying you have fleeting thoughts of falling to the ground and never getting back up.

"What am I doing wrong?" I jumped by Jane's exclamation.

"I don't know," I mumbled, not really listening.

"You're supposed to teach me," she almost growled, looking at me with pissed off eyes.

"That's when I thought you had any kind of fighting skills in you."

"I do," she countered.

"You've got shit. Your place is behind a computer. Not everyone's cut out for a life in the crossfire."

"You don't get it," she whispered urgently before turning louder and louder. "If I can't fight they'll replace me."

"Yeah well not my problem," I said and got up, determined for a cold shower, fresh clothes and comfortable waiting patience as I try and track down Raul.

"Do you know what replaced means?" I stopped in my tracks.

I did know, unfortunately. I've never been close enough with another agent to know the loss but I've heard from Emmett. He's lost people. He says it doesn't get to him but I don't know how I'd handle if Emmett was replaced. He's been everything for the last couple of years. Though I know he's much more important to the Volturi than I am so the risk of such a scenario is slim.

"What are you doing?" Turning around, I narrow my eyes and tilt my head. "Don't even pretend you didn't set me up in New York. I could have died and you didn't spend a second thinking about it."

"Yes I did," she muttered, looking like the brat I knew she was.

"Oh well that makes it so much better," I said with heavy sarcasm and turned around, making my way back to the safe house.

I didn't hear anyone come inside until ten minutes into my second shower of the day. Ignoring potential hypothermia, I let the water slide down my back while keeping both palms flat against the tiles.

I let any thought enter my mind – I craved the distraction badly – but not anything of him. I begged myself not to think about Edward. And then I thought of the other person I also couldn't afford to think about with a rabid bloodhound snooping for any information just outside the door; Jasper.

I know that I'd do anything for my brother. I'd die for him. Mostly because I can't be left alone in this fucked up world. I'm selfish enough to know I'd step into that role if it ever presented itself. I'd help him bury a body if he should ever kill someone. I'd kill for him. Fuck knows he's always been the best brother to me and I've been, well, shit. It's selfish to want him to even consider forgiving me but I still want it.

As I dried my hair I took extra time fixing it up. If talking didn't work I'd have to go to plan B; seduction. I can be very persuasive if I wanted to. Which is why I skipped the bra when I pulled on a fresh black loose tank top where the side hanging almost halfway down my ribs. Well that and then no one wouldn't notice a slight bulge at the small of my back where I would keep one of the Glock's.

I also slipped on dark blue "stretchy" jeans that were almost uncomfortably tight but once I started moving around, they bended to my limb's will. I braided two small herringbones down the sides of my face before pulling them back, keeping too many strands from getting in the way. The rest of my hair I kept loose. I must admit, I looked good. But it wasn't a look I'd normally choose. It was too… _angelic_.

I armed myself heavily. The knife slipped inside my sock for extra protecting and the pistol was trapped extra hard to my ankle so there wouldn't be any more surprises. The Glock felt heavy against my back. But it was also comforting. A part of me.

When I pulled the cell phone off the desk Jane roused from her stupor. I held up a finger as there would be no chance of her speaking to me for the remainder of the day.

"You will sit in that chair until I return. You won't leave the house. You won't feel the need to investigate every little noise you hear. You will wait for me to contact you. Is that understood?"

"But how will you reach-"

"Ah, ah, ah… You don't get to ask questions. Now nod if you understood everything I just said." She nodded. "Good." As I came to the door I turned around. "Oh and if you're thinking about taking the car; I placed explosives in it so at the push of some tiny buttons on this phone you'll be splattered all over the road. Got it?" She nodded again, more vigorously this time. "Excellent," I smiled and walked out quickly.

oOo

The day was winding down, thankfully. The sky was orange with the glow of impending nightfall.

I've found out two things today. One; people are much less trusting than I give them credit for. Two; everyone knows Raul but none know how to contact him. Apparently he contacts them. It's a one-way forcing term. Maybe when I've asked my question something could be done about this Raul.

But then as dusk came and I'd bought myself a second water bottle of the day, I was taken. It's almost a shame to them of how overly alert I was. They had no chance, of course. But the initial approach startled me. I won't deny it.

I was walking down an alley, determined not to give up yet and trying to convince myself that night always brought out the freaks. That's when the van came. I was ten meters from a crossing when a black SUV type car stopped right in front of me. I halted dead in my tracks only to hear two people approaching me from the back.

Training taught me many things but nothing beats the real deal. Your heart starts pumping faster. You hands tremble with adrenaline.

I let them come close until I felt one of their breaths against my skin. That's when I turned. They were surprised by my move. I grip the first man's wrist – let's call him number one – and twisted it fast until I heard a pop. The other guy – number two – came to the rescue of his buddy and tried to pull a gun on me. I pushed the tip upwards before shoving the heel of my palm up against his nose. Another crack.

Number one had recovered long enough to try and pull his gun on me too. This one was a semi-automatic – in differ from the shotgun number two had. Using my razor reflexes, I grab his right hand while simultaneously turning my back towards him and in turn knocking into him. He flailed and tried to grab me but having already ruined his left wrist and the other was holding a gun he was powerless as I bended my right elbow and crushed it into his nose. Blood squirted out. With a kick to the cut, number one was down, clutching his face while mumbling incoherencies.

One to go. While there was considerable damage to number two, he was far from done with me. But as I faced him for more there was movement behind me. I was wondering when the rest was going to show up. But all of this had probably only happened in less than thirty seconds.

The next second, I'm gripped around my arms and hailed into the air. Number two smirk and laugh but I get the last laugh as I wrap my legs around his neck and twist. SNAP! Number two goes lip and falls to the ground.

The man whose arms were tightly wrapped around me threw curses into my ear at a high volume. As he tried to turn us around, I bowed my head before quickly knocking it back. My vision blurred for a moment but as I got to collect myself, I was in the ground. Hands wrap around my ankles. I turn and see the face of the man I'd just clogged. He was big. Emmett big. But pointier head, almost the same shape as Humpty Dumpty from last night. Who knows, they could be related.

He tries to drag me down towards the van but I yank my right foot out of his grip and put a nice dent in his forehead. Blood pours drips from the wound. The man takes his hand across his forehead, looks at the red liquid before falling down. I stare at his form; not sure if I believe he just fainted at the sight of blood.

I hear another approach. This time I'm prepared. I shoot to my feet, pull the Glock out of its holster and point it at the figure emerging from behind the van. The guy stops and holds up his hands, asking me not to shoot him.

"Por que você está me seguindo?" (**Why****are****you****following****me?**) The man was shaking, never looking away from the gun.

"Eu sou apenas o motorista," (**I'm****just****the****driver**) he pleaded. I looked at his ankles and under his arms. He seemed unarmed. He was shaking enough that he seemed to be truthful.

"Você sabe o Raul?" (**Do****you****know****Raul?**) He shook his head. "Então quem está pagando?"

(**Then****who's****paying****you?**) The man looked away long enough to point towards Humpty Dumpty's brother. "Dê-me sua carteira." (**Give****me****your****wallet**) The man shook harder as he reached behind him. I unhooked the safety to let him know I wasn't fucking around. He stilled at the sound before pulling forth a square package and threw it towards me.

The package landed in a thud of dust on the ground. I never removed the gun as I sank to retrieve it. Flipping it open, my gaze shifted rapidly from the driver to a family picture. Man, wife and three kids, two boys and one girl. There was nothing to indicate any criminal activity. I removed the picture and drivers license and then threw back the wallet.

"Se eu descobrir que você estava mentindo para mim eu vou chegar a sua casa e colocar uma bala em cada uma de suas cabeças. É claro?" (**If****I****find****out****that****you****were****lying****to****me****I'll****come****to****your****home****and****put****a****bullet****in****each****one****of****their****heads.****Is****that****clear?**) He nodded hard. In the blink of an eye I pointed the gun down and shot with precision at his calf. The bullet barely graced his leg but blood pooled against the fabric of his pants nonetheless.

The man shouted, clutching his limb. I narrowed my eyes. "Go!" He jumped up at my voice and scurried down the street, limping as he did. I watch his retrieving form just as number one groaned to life. My head automatically turned at the sound. He righted himself into a seated position, still touching his nose but with more delicacy now.

I took five steps until reaching him and sank to a crouch. I pointed the tip of my gun to his temple. The movement stilled his breath. I cocked my head as his dark eyes zoned in on me.

"Hi," I said softly and very calmly. He stared at me. "Would it be alright if I asked you a question?" A slow nod. "Why are you following me?" He tried to speak but a blubbery version of speech emanated form his throat. After clearing it, a coarse replacement presented itself.

"We were told to bring you in," he said in great English.

"I got that. But why?" He swallowed again; more blood came out of his nose.

"You were asking questions." Ah. So this was Raul. Maybe not physically but a decent replacement.

"Where is Raul?" The man laughed now, making it very clear he would not answer.

"Alright then," I said with a sigh. "You tell your boss I wish to speak with him. I'm not a cop. I don't want trouble. I have one question that I will ask Raul and Raul alone. Do you understand?" The man, still recovering from his evidently painful eruption, nodded his head again. I gave him the cell phone number and said I expected a reply before the night was over.

oOo

I didn't return to the safe house. I should have. It's _protocol_. But I couldn't stand the thought of being cramped in a room with Jane. I'd probably shoot myself. Instead I wandered for what seemed like hours. It wasn't. I walk surprisingly fast and only forty-six minutes after my surprising visit by Raul's "most trusted" my phone rang. I look for a number in the display but it said withheld.

I flip it open and wait for an unfamiliar voice to enter my ear way. Instead I'm assaulted by the steady tenor of Caius.

"What do you want now?" I snap, thinking Raul could call any minute and I'd lose my shot.

"You're sexy when you're mad."

"Get to the fucking point."

"Status update. What's the progress of Jane's training?" I can't help but snort at the ridiculousness that is Jane vs. fighting.

"They're an unfit match."

"I see."

"I believe she doesn't have a fighting bone in her body."

"Alright."

"However…" I stop myself. Did I really want to _defend_ Jane? Where was all this moral coming from?

"Yes?"

"She's a decent researcher and probably much more valuable behind a computer." It wasn't praise but it felt like I'd just sold my soul to the devil. If I believe in either of those things.

"Articulate," he muttered and typed on a computer. I hung up, having no patience or time for games.

And so I wait. And wait. And then I wait some more. And after I've waited I listen to my stomach growling; begging for sustenance. As I ignore it, I wait a little longer.

By the time eleven roll around, I'm starting to get a little pissed. I could understand a man not wanting to listen to a woman but did he not get the fact that I just killed one of his men? The occasional hazard comes with the job, of course, but did he think it was a fluke? Good luck? A work of God?

I was treading up more stony steps, back towards the safe house – not having kept in contact like I promised. I could only hope Jane hadn't been stupid and gotten herself blown up. I hadn't lied about the explosives. The metallic beads were rigged with C4 and a small transmitter. I could check the whereabouts of the vehicle but it didn't fit with her taking off. She's much too loyal to Volturi to cross me. I'm higher than she is – as disturbing as that is.

The alleyways became smaller, steeper. My eyelids dropped with drowsiness. I was hungry and tired. My bones ached and my feet were swollen from the heat. At least they felt swollen. That's another disturbing thought.

Maybe it was the lacking intake of oxygen, deep hatred for whoever designed this fucking place, or maybe it was my aching knees that has been groaning against any and every one of my moves since around five p.m. but as that moment, as I'm seriously contemplating sleeping on the street so I won't have to climb any more, the phone rings.

My immediate thoughts rush to Caius. He has a way of getting to you without even knowing it himself. Trust me, half the time the guy is snoozing in oblivion. But it wasn't Caius. Or anyone else form Volturi.

"I'm told you've been trying to reach me." The voice is soft and sounds _young_. I stop my movements as I contemplate asking who it really was.

"That's correct." Luckily my voice doesn't sound as exhausted as my body felt.

"What question do you have?" I smirk lazily.

"When can we meet?" There was a throaty chuckle.

"I don't get appointments, I make them."

"So make one… with me."

"You're not worthy my time."

"Makes no difference to me. You have what I want and I'm not going to stop looking for you until I can ask you my question in person." There was a pause but I could still hear his light breathing.

"And what if I refuse?" I took a breath.

"I'll continue asking questions. You'll send more guys to take me in. Instead of the mercy I showed today I'll get… _creative_."

"I don't want more of my men to die… Do you know Cinelândia square?" I said yes even though I'd never heard of it before. "Be there at twelve o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Be even on second late and it's off and you leave town."

"Okay." The dial tone rang into my ear.

My tiredness had momentarily disappeared. Instead I felt giddy. In and out of Brazil in less than seventy-two hours. That much be some kind of record. Then a few days of nothing but silence. Unless they think this was a too short a trip. Maybe they'd send me out immediately. That has happened before.

My drowsiness returned as I neared the house. My legs carried me excruciatingly slowly. Jane was still by the computer when I walked inside. She looked up at my approach.

"You've been gone a long time."

"Yes." My hand waved for her to leave the chair. She grumbled unintelligent words as she stood and moved out of my way. I repeated the square name into Google and waited for a result.

It would take over an hour to get into the city. Noon and four o'clock is the international times for rush. It would take at least doubled time. That could be problematic.

"What's at Cinelândia?"

"Raul." She looked at me with wide eyes.

"You found him? When are we leaving?"

"Ten."

I set the address into the GPS and then went to bed. I was starving but my mind took over. I wanted rest. The day – the whole week in fact – had taken more of me than I realized. As I dazed I felt a prick somewhere on the bone in my wrist.

* * *

**AN: Not as long as I would have wanted but I promise the next one is even juicier. Oh you will not be able to guess! Sorry for any spelling mistakes. I'll try and correct the as fast as possible!  
And I will most likely be out of it for a while. I've been writing another story and I wanted it completely finished before publishing though now that seemed like a waste since two thirds of it disappeared. Tonight. I'm pissed off and hoping I can rack my brain for anything salvageable. It was an awesome story and hopefully I will be able to publish it someday. Feel like shit now.  
**


	17. All I Have

_**All I have **_

The square was packed with people crossing the enormous streets. I tried not to let my head whip around the place to look for someone who might be looking for me. But it was hard.

We arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule. It took two threats to get Jane to stay in the car parked up a smaller street. Still within full view of the square but too far away to be spotted and think she could help.

I wore the same clothes as I did yesterday sans boots in favor for the brown gladiator sandals. I thought the look reeked of relaxation and definitely not a threat. Though my Glock was still pressing into my back, but it was a welcoming discomfort.

I uncrossed and crossed my legs for the sixth time in the last ten minutes. I was getting impatient and did not like being stringed along. Maybe Raul was counting down the seconds. OCD anyone?

Or maybe not. A presence sat down next to me. I looked over, finding a man watching the surroundings while unbuttoning a navy blue suit jacket before turning his attention to me. He smiled in the dark but very attractive way. His hair is slightly longer than what I observe guys normally have; curling at the ends. Despite being someone I'm paid to kill he was very attractive. I won't lie.

"Nice to meet you Raul," I said. His lips remained in a pleasurable smile.

"You are much lovelier than I pictured Miss…?"

"Bella. No Miss. And thanks." His accent was heavy but in a very attractive way.

"Right then. Whatever is it you wanted to ask me?" His English was surprisingly good. He must be a native but maybe college in the states?

Shaking it off I reach into my back pocket and retrieve the photograph of Mr. Jacobs, handing it over. Raul takes the picture and looks down.

"Have you seen this man?" Raul looks it over with quick but narrowing eyes.

"Yes." Cut surgical answer. One might think they ended on bad terms.

"Papers?" He smirked and chuckled dryly.

"Yes… papers." He looked at me expectantly.

"Where is his?" His head cocks and he leaned back against the bench, arm stretching far along the back, almost touching my shoulder.

"I don't know."

"Didn't you-"

"He never got his papers." My interest is piqued. "He was supposed to get them over one week ago but he never showed. Didn't even pay. It was quite insulting. I take the time to make flawless papers for this man and he doesn't even do me the courtesy of showing up?"

"It's very rude," I agreed.

"But then he calls me right before we are scheduled to meet. He says he needs new papers. He wants to be a local. Stay here permanently." I leaned back, feeling his hand touch my hair, vowing his fingers through the strands.

"He wants to stay?" A nod. "Why?" Now laughter.

"I don't make it my business to know my clients personal history."

"So you could do it?"

"Of course. He would have to pay double, of course."

"When are they done?" Raul got a glint in his eyes and shakes his head.

"Now if I tell you that, I won't see my money." I feel a frown turn my lips down.

"I need him." My voice is low, gruff and very threatening. But Raul only laughs.

"You would not dare try anything here in such a public place," he said, assured. "But I would." He showed a silver gun hanging in a holder under his arms. I smiled sweetly and leaned in close to him, taking out my gun from the small of my back and pointed it at his ribs.

"You don't know anything," I giggled, kissing his cheek and pulled the gun back along with myself. He finally looked like he could take me seriously.

"Who are you?" I smiled smugly. "CIA?" Now I snorted. "FBI?" A shake of my head. "Immigrations?"

"I'm pissed off. You see. I get a call about a mission which normally isn't that bad, but I had to fly seventeen hours with a pesky little bitch that for some reason won't stop asking the most ridiculously basic questions. And then I find out I have to train her. If it had been any other, I would have gladly offered my help but it's like she's trying to tick me off. And _that,_ I can assure you, no one wants." I lick my lips, feeling I have his full attention.

"And it's not enough I get to this fucking country where there is no temperature below thirty. It just doesn't seem to exist. So it's hot as hell and you know how heat makes people crazy. And now I have to find this asshole who butchered both his wife and a prostitute who was going to turn him in for taking charity money and turning it into a profitable brothel of some kind. Do you see my dilemma?"

He looked at a loss for words.

"Oh and to top it off like a nice little cherry the pesky bitch doesn't have any fighting skills in her. At all. It's ridiculous. How fucking hard is it to shoot at a frozen target?" I breathe, feeling relieved.

"That's… that's harsh," he says. I nod.

"It sure is. So why don't you say to a little cooperation here?"

"I want my money," he demanded. I pursed my lips.

"How about you set up your drop. He gets his papers, you get your money. All you have to do is tell me when and where."

"And then?"

"And then we're five minutes before this conversation. Strangers." He looked at me long and hard, taking a deep pensive breath.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Touché." He gave me a last look. "This is the last we speak?"

"Of course." I smirked.

"You will leave then?"

"On the next fly out." He nodded slowly.

"You have a deal."

We kissed both each other's cheeks, he mumbling a name and time. Tonight.

Walking back to the car where Jane was slowly suffocating – one could only hope – I felt exhilarated. The heat didn't bother me anymore. I had one goal and that was to finish this mission, get home and sleep for twelve hours straight without Jane snoring into my ear.

"Do we have him?" I looked at her while starting the car.

"Does it look like I fucking have him?" I snapped. "We get him tonight."

"When and where?" She was eager but it wouldn't help her. She was the lookout.

"None of your concerns. I will get him. You will stay by the car."

"That's bull!" I turned to her, stopping the car abruptly by a red light.

"No, watching you throw knives at a tree for two hours without ever making it stick is bull. And it's bull_shit_. Learn to curse for fucks sake," I mumbled the last, already forming multiple plans in my head.

As soon as we reached the house I snatched the cell phone towards me and made the call.

"Yes?"

"We will get him tonight."

"Good Isabella. I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

"What's our move?"

"Alive would be ideal."

"And if not?"

There was a dial tone and I flipped it close, thinking about Aro's words carefully. Finally I snapped out of it, taking a breath and say; "Pack you stuff." I turned to Jane. "We're leaving in twenty minutes."

I changed pants to black cargo and the boots. I stock up nice, almost overdoing it. Hunting knife – that I didn't think I would need – into its holster in the right boot, pressing against my inner calf. Small 9mm into my left boot, inner ankle.

The circular explosive blades went into the pocket in the middle of my left thigh. The small thin knife that had been left just for me went into the thick black bracelet I use to hide my tattoo. It pointed out but that wouldn't be an issue. The Glock, of course, was still at my lower back.

I pulled my hair back in a pony tail. A few strands dangle into wavy curly, framing my face. Then I filled up a syringe with a substance that would keep Mr. Jacobs knocked out for hours. I put a plastic tip along the needle before letting it slide down my right outer calf pocket. I zipped up my pockets, the pants almost uncomfortably tight.

It's just the heat I tell myself.

I see myself in the mirror and decide I look much too pure for tonight's ventures. I brush on a healthy layer of mascara and eyeliner, drawing my finger underneath so it doesn't smudge. Jane is idling by the computer. Without saying a word I go over there, take the laptop, flip it close and smash it into the desk.

I hear Jane squeal and see her jump back. The destroyed heap falls to the floor. I grab my bag and walk outside, ready for a fight.

oOo

I take one dropping step at a time. The alley descends quicker than desired but tonight I don't care for those details. I stop at the bottom, leaning against the wall and pull up the binoculars. The adrenaline surged. My body tensed. I needed this. I only wished he could fight back.

With every passing human I had to lower the binoculars to my thigh, obscuring them from view. But people didn't notice me. Not even those walking down the same steps and passing me. I was invisible. The feeling had never been more wanted.

Just then… a man walking out. I grip the visuals tighter, zooming in. He looks around himself. Not necessarily in a paranoid way but it was a good act. I couldn't help the smirk that set on my face. I watched the man walk across the street. He walked past several cars, indicating he hadn't driven to the meeting that would officially make him a Brazilian native.

I dropped the binoculars and surfaced from my position. My steps were calm but determined. The man turned slowly. I pushed myself in between two houses, waiting ten second and then started up again. He wasn't close enough to hear my advances but if he saw me now and somehow spotted me later he would run. I wasn't up for chasing one man through all of Rio.

I wasn't taking any chances. It was more than likely he had "friends". And I needed to get to him before that. As if he heard my thoughts, the man abruptly turned up an alley. I halted and rushed up to my left, mirroring his movements only an alley apart. I sprinted, needing to get to the crossing before he did.

I peeked around the corner. Nothing. The adrenaline was leaving me and replacing it was fear that I might have lost him. But to my delight the man came up, panting heavily. He leaned over slightly, gripping his thighs. I watched the manila envelope in his hand. He started walking again and I got ready.

Never breaking contact from the target, my right hand slipped down to grab the syringe. The plastic protector quickly felt to the ground. I pushed out a little liquid, making sure no air bubbles would fuck this up.

Ten meters away.

Five.

Now!

I thrust myself forward, taking him by surprise. The man gasped, automatically backing up. I took two steps and was just about to plunge the needle in when his hand grabbed mine, squeezing until the syringe dropped. It fell and cracked against the stony ground. The man grunted and moved his whole body to push me into the house behind us. The breath was knocked out of me.

I had underestimated him.

So maybe I have more than one mistake but get down to it and I'm the best. Simple as that. I should learn to say that without sounding smug.

The man tried to outrun me. Stupid boy. He charged up a different alley but his diet and obvious lack of workout had failed him in the end. We got to a second landing, the rooftops' laying at our feet. I grabbed hold of his arm, twisted it and kicked him hard behind his knee.

The man shouted in pain, doubling over. I breathed harder, taking out my Glock and put it at the back of his head.

"You'll come along willingly." It wasn't a request. And I knew he heard that. But even so he played the stupid card. Why can't criminals be cleverer?

"Why are you doing this to me?" Is he crying? That would be a new touch.

"It's not nice to murder your wife," I said, dropping back to let him get up on his knees.

"I don't have a wife," he sobbed. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm emotionally damaged. Do you really think tears will help your case?" He sniffed.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" I smirked and picked up the envelope. He tried to clutch it back but I held it out of reach.

"Let's see what we have here." His mouth set in a grim line, all pretenses gone.

"Mario Laguerta. Seriously? You're whiter than me for fucks sake."

"Who are you? FBI? CIA?"

"What's with people and thinking I'm CIA?" I sighed. "But since you broke my needle you'll have to go along willingly." He laughed.

"I won't ever go with you."

"Will it help if I threaten your kids and grandchildren?" His face froze before laughing again.

"I don't care," he whispered menacingly.

Looks like we'll be crossing that bridge.

But it wouldn't be by me.

One second the man known as Porter Jacobs sat on his knees smirking and laughing at me and then the left side of his face was blow off. I felt blood platter on my skin. I drew back automatically, watching the tiny specks of red on my arms before looking up at the perpetrator.

My breath was caught.

Edward appeared out of the shadows of a nearby alley. You probably think my first thought would have been to run to him, ask him… anything. Any menial questions they ask in the movies during times like these. But that's not what had my stomach churning.

Jane was watching. She saw the shot. She sees him.

As if on cue, not five seconds after the man on the floor had been shot to pieces a piercing explosion echoed in the air. For another second neither of us spoke. Then Edward looked down slowly, watching a trail of blood pool along his dark blue shirt. And then he fell.

I must have been in shock. It's the only reason I remained still until I could hear Jane in the background.

"Did you see that?" she yelled triumphantly. I turned my head slowly, feeling my skin boil. "I actually hit! I should have taken-" the heel of my palm connected with her nose, pushing the bone until a crack.

Her eyes clenched shut, tearing up. I grabbed a handful of hair and shoved the side of her face into a cement wall. Jane fell to the ground, unmoving. But I doubted she was dead. Pity.

Next I rushed over, falling to my knees, opening his shirt to see the severity. I reach behind me and tear off Mario Laguerta's shirt, keeping it steady to stop the flow.

"Edward?" I whispered. He didn't answer. My heart beat faster. Putting a shaking hand to his neck I felt a pulse. Thinking I would faint just by feeling that weak but definitely there pulse, I try to regulate my breathing.

My hands are shaking badly as I reach to take out the cell phone, but my hand stop immediately. They would screen the call. I can't let them know.

Keeping the shirt pressed to his ribs, hoping to fuck he doesn't have a punctured lung, I frantically turn my head around, feeling more and more panicked. I swallow, knowing I have to move or he'll die and I can't let him die.

I put a rock over the shirt before rushing down the street, trying to find anyone who doesn't look like they would shoot me. An older man walking towards his car would be ideal. I was sorry for having to do this but there was no other choice. I unhook my gun.

"Meu amigo. Ele levou um tiro. Você precisa levá-lo ao hospital." (**My friend. He's been shot. You need to take him to the hospital**) The man kept looking at the gun I was pointing at him. My bottom lip was trembling. I didn't have time for hesitation. "Por favor," (**Please**) I plead.

"Eu posso chamar você de uma ambulância." (**I can call you an ambulance**) I shook my head.

"Sem ambulância." (**No ambulance**) The man looked at me and somehow must have seen my desperation. He nodded and followed me up the alley I had come from.

He halts when he sees the dead man and Jane lying on the ground, unconscious.

"Bom Deus!" (**Good God**) he exclaims in a whisper. I throw off the rock and keep pressure on Edward's wound. He still has a pulse. There wasn't not enough blood to suggest a major artery was nicked.

"Que não é de seu interesse," (**That is not of your concern**) I threw back at the man. He helped me down and we gently lay Edward in the back of his car. I close the door and wait by the curve where the man moves around.

"Qual é o hospital mais próximo?" (**What's the nearest hospital?**) The man looks up and ramble out a name. I repeat it about ten times before nodding.

"Obrigado." (**Thank you**) The man only nods and speeds off.

I run back up to find both bodies pulling down my metaphorical shoulders. I take Jane and the envelope with Mr. Jacob's new identity and start for the car. Jane may look small but she feels heavier than me. Even so I get her up the last hill easier than I would have thought. There must be a lot of adrenaline in my system right now.

I drop her in the back and speed towards the safe house. Jane never wavers as I carry her inside, dropping her on the couch while rushing inside the bathroom to find an anesthetic. She was stirring and I couldn't have her waking up now.

I gave her the maximal limit of hallucinogenic serum before rushing back outside and drive back to the body. I park as closely as I can and heave until Mr. Jacob's is in the back as well. I drive much faster than appropriate when you have a dead man in the back.

Everything is happening so fast. Before I had been reeling for the possibility of a fight and now I'm driving for the docks where Mario wouldn't be found for at least a few weeks. Forensics are shit down here and even if they had it anything indicating me or Edward, it would be gone.

The harbor is dark, the water sloshing soundly. I abruptly stop the car, keeping it idling as I run back and flip down the trunk. I roll his body down until I hear a splash.

I breathe out, taking ten seconds just to breathe. The salty water clearing my head. My buzz was gone. The night had turned into something I didn't even know was a possibility. I don't know how I feel. I know we were supposed to leave with Porter Jacobs tonight. When we don't show up they'll know something went wrong.

In the way back I try to come up with a lie.

Obviously I can't tell them about Edward. I shot Jacobs. It's my responsibility. Jane was… collateral. She was right beside me. She was scared. She panicked. Jacobs threw her into the wall. I took my shot.

Yes. That could work. But she needs to believe it as well. And I need to convince her. That would be challenging. She already suspects me of something. All she needs is ammo to give straight to Aro and I'll be executed.

I've heard of people not following the orders. Some just disappear. We all know what happens but no one dares to speak of it. The thought that I could become one of them- I thought of Emmett. Would he care? Correction; Would he care enough to do something?

And what about Jasper, Charlie or Renée? And Edward? It was easier not to think about it but I couldn't play the ignorant card forever.

Sanity was coming back to me. I could feel my limbs again. And I needed to move.

The car slurred from its position; rushing me to the nearest hospital.

oOo

I peeled away the layers of dirt beneath my fingernails. I couldn't stand the sight. I barely had any nails to begin with and I was still bothered with dirt underneath them.

A sigh.

My eyes snapped up and I stood. Edward's eyes widened at my face. He tried to sit but I gently pushed him down. He was weak so it wasn't exactly a challenge. I sat down at the side of the bed, knowing I couldn't stay long.

"Hi," I start. Seems simple enough.

"How did I get here?" I licked my bottom lip.

"What do you remember?" He furiously rubbed his eyelids as if it would make him remember clearer.

"I don't know. I was getting-" I tilted my head. "Is he dead?" I nodded.

"Half his face was shot off. Yes, he is dead." He sighed.

"Shit." My brows scrunch. Edward gulps. "I wasn't sent to kill him. I was just collecting and then… he had a gun. In his shoe. He would have shot you. I- I didn't even think about it." I nodded, licking my lips again. "You shouldn't be here."

"I know. And you didn't shoot him. I did. In fact, you were never there. You had some bad paella and were sick all night long." He stared at me. "That's the official story and it needs to stay that way. Understood?" He nodded. I sighed in relief. "Good."

Pulling away fast – like ripping off a Band-Aid – I walked out of the room, turning at the door and never looked back as I walked down the hallway, trying my best to seem as genuine as when I would tell Jane the lie of what happened tonight.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for being gone for-fucking-ever. And did you really think I would kill off Edward? Come on. If anyone's going to die it's… probably shouldn't continue that train of thought. I've had some wine. I also wrote this authors note a few days ago. I don't usually drink on Mondays.  
**


	18. Putting Holes in Happyness

_**Putting holes in Happiness**_

A shocking wave of turbulence hits us roughly. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose; clutching the armrests. As it passes I relax into my chair once more and sneak a peek towards my left. Jane looks more green than humanly possible. I was glad of the turbulence; it's the only thing that could explain her sudden health plunge.

But we're almost home. I've never been happier to see the rain on our windows as the plane descends. Jane almost hurls as the gigantic bird bump onto the asphalt ground. I stand slowly and wait for her to join me but she sits still and I have no choice but to wait for her.

The plane empties and the stewardesses warily look our way; probably not wanting to clean up a possible mess.

"I just don't get it," Jane says for the fifteen-thousandth time. She's been pestering me with her every thought since we crossed the Gulf of Mexico. I've been tenaciously silent since then.

"I've already told you. He hit you really hard. I'm surprised you're still alive." I keep my tone annoyed and uninterested.

"But I wasn't there… was I?" She wouldn't remember key plots but she would feel fuzzy for a few days. Not to mention suspicious.

"Yes you were. You came down for something. You never got the chance since he hit you." Believable and unquestionable.

Jan nods slowly and stands on shaky legs. I refuse to allow her any help as I grab our bags from the overhead compartment and thrust hers into dead and hollow arms.

I don't look back to see if she's following me or not. But I hear shuffled feet behind me. We come to the large glass sliding doors and I watch with internal glee at the grey sky and downpour. Jane, on the other hand, frowns and looks horrified.

A large black SUV with tinted windows pulls up before us. We slip into the back without question and the car speeds off quickly but evenly. I had expected Aro to sit there but not reality. All three brothers were in the compartment with us. Their backs to the driver and possible bodyguard. I sat as far away from Jane as possible; tensing. I know they don't know and yet I can't help the speed of my pulse.

"Isabella," Aro says pleasantly. He turns his head. "And Jane. How wonderful to see you two again." Did he not think we would make it back alive?

"Aro," we said in unison. He put his fingertips together and smiled.

"I would assume you to want some rest. I heard it was a bumpy ride." We say nothing. Aro's eyes flicker over Jane's state. "But I would like a verbal report now." Jane didn't even attempt to make communication and Aro only looked at me as he said this.

"Porter Jacobs has been dealt with." Aro nods encouragingly. "I disposed of- it's been taken care of. Jane was unlucky enough to come in-between." Aro smiled sadly. "I gave her something to sleep but I would suspect she needs medical attention." Aro nodded; agreeing.

"How unfortunate," he spoke slowly; weighing his words. "Do you remember anything, my dear?" Jane shook her head delicately while clutching her bag like a pillow. "What a pity."

There was a tensed silence and I peered stubbornly out the window until we came to my street. The car stopped and I put my hand on the handle.

"Isabella?" I turned my head with an impassive expression. "Good job." I nodded once and jumped out into the heavy rain and sprinted to my lobby.

"Good morning Ms. Strode." I smiled at the doorman and made my way towards the elevators. We hadn't left Rio immediately. Taking my time I'd meticulously wiped everything from the scene and destroyed the identifications into ashes. No one would know about Mr. Jacobs dirty little secret; least of all his children.

The lift dings and I step inside with a last fleeting glance towards my doorman. The gold embedded doors slide together and I fall back against the railing. I ache everywhere. My arms feel like jell-o and my knees are too wobbly for me to even contemplate working out the remainder of the week. Emmett would understand. Maybe. Probably not.

The doors ding open and I slug myself down to my door. The cold rectangle seems so unwelcoming now. I drop the knot of keys in the bowl by the door and next the duffle bag tumbles down in a heap.

I crack my neck as I come by the kitchen, in a beeline for my bed when I'm alerted of a person standing behind me.

There was the unmistakable sound of a gun sliding out of safety mode. "Don't move." His voice is as unmistakable. It's as smooth and velvet as ever; not even a hint he'd been shot only three days ago.

I freeze; my breath stopping. "You would shoot me?" I ask surprised but still evenly.

"Of course not." I turn and watch as he lays the gun down on the counter. "But I needed you to not attack me. I have a feeling you do this to unwanted house guests."

"I wouldn't know. I've never had one before." I take in his impeccably neat appearance. Dark jeans hanging tantalizingly low on his hips. Light grey t-shirt that shows he works out. I must look like a mess next to him. Wrinkly clothes, greasy hair and blotchy skin. "Why are you here?" I ask with dread dripping from my voice. The Volturi had been just a few hundred meters away from him. What if-

"Should I have gone back to pretending you don't exist?" I felt a little sad.

"You do that?" He ignored my question.

"I can't go home."

"Yes you-" I cut myself off with a horrible thought. I've searched the apartment countless times and not once have I found a bug. But what if they've been in here now? What if they hear every word they say? What if they're waiting for me to say his name before they crash through the front door?

Paranoid as I am I went back to the front door and locked it. Peeking out the peephole the hall appeared to be deserted. I knew better than to rely on my vision only.

"You just got shot. Really think its wise coming here?" I ask as I trudge past him and feel under the small hallway table for the extra gun I have taped there. Obvious placement but with that gone I'd know if the Volturi had been here. It was still there.

"I feel fine." I cocked my head with so much obvious disbelief that it must have looked comical for a third party viewer.

"Oh yeah? Touch the ceiling with your left hand." He frowned and made no move to do that. "Yes, you're absolutely fine," I said with heavy sarcasm.

"Other than obvious discomfort," he continued. "I feel fine." I shook my head at his deliriously sincere voice.

"You can't be here." His face flashed of hurt and I wanted to slap myself. "I didn't mean it like that," I whispered.

"Then what do you mean?" He was angry now. "If you didn't think they would barge up here right now and put a bullet in my head," I flinched, "would you even have wanted to see me?"

"Why do you ask that?" I said with surprise. Edward shook his head and shrugged.

"Maybe because you're always pulling away."

"There's a good reason for that," I reminded him. "And how dare you say I don't want you. I traded my life for yours. If something happens to you now, where does that leave me? I can't live with everything I've done without a reason, Edward." His face smoothed at the last part.

"I didn't think about that," he breathed to himself.

"Yeah well I did," I snapped and then instantly feeling guilty at my bitchy tone. The greasy state of my hair was starting to crawl inside my skin and my fingertips itched. "I'm going to take a shower and then… I don't know." I shook my head and turned towards the bathroom.

"Do you want me gone by the time you're done?" I stopped in front of the entertainment unit and thought about it.

"No," I said and continued into the tiled room. I closed the door softly and almost fell to the floor, my knees were so hollow. I had to grab the sink so I wouldn't buckle over.

I started the water and let the steam billow in the room before I stepped inside. The clothes fell from my body and I felt like I had lost at least two dress sizes. My skin was battered with bruises that were in the shades of purple and yellow. My hands were tattered in scratches and my fingernails were nonexistent. The old scars on my back blended in with the paleness of my back. My arms, though plunged in spf 50 every day, still showed a slight tint.

I stepped under the rays of scorching water and instantly recoiled from it. Easing under it took several moments and only then was I able to turn it down and find the cold knob. The water cascaded down my back, arms and legs. I watched the specks of dirt flow down the drain before starting on my hair.

My shampoo smelled deliciously fruity and inviting. It's the same I've been using since I was fourteen. I used the same brand of conditioner and let my hair be embedded in the silken feel as I scrubbed my body. Dirt still persisted under my nails and in the crevices of my skin. My feet were hardest to clean. But I scrubbed with persistent hands and soon I was spotless, except for the bruises and scratches.

I shaved every place I could think of since stubble is never inviting in such a warm climate. Leaning back the water soaked my hair and rid it of the whiteness of the conditioner. I felt amazing; the trickles of each individual droplet.

I stood under the stream for a long while. The warmth felt too good to leave immediately. Afterwards I stuck the toothbrush in my mouth and multitasked by both brushing my hair and drying my skin. The minty flavor made my stomach churn and I suddenly realized I was famished.

I slipped on the grey cotton robe that was more of a sweater and tied a knot in the center of my stomach. The upper sides persisted on showing a deep v-neck and I let it go after the fifth try. I drew a towel through my hair as well and didn't stop until no more drops dripped down on the glassy floor.

The strands curl at the ends and altogether waviness flowed down my shoulders and settled in the middle of my back. I hung the towels on the stainless steel drying rack and turned it on to faster dry them.

Edward sat with his back towards mine out on the balcony in the sun chair I usually inhabited on one of my many sleepless nights. With his momentary lapse in focus I went to my room and into the cavernous closet.

I dropped the robe and pulled out a drawer to find panties. Black boy shorts hugged my skinny hips and a pair of dark and torn shorts that weren't too short joined my hips. A black bra with lacy sides snapped to my skin. I took a simple white cotton tank top and pulled it on. It pooled at my waist in a flattering way and I looked myself in the mirror and saw most of the bruises were on my warm. I pulled on a very thin light grey cotton sweater but left the front buttons unbuttoned and walked out into the living room. Edward was still sitting in the chair. I slid the sliding door open but he didn't up look at my approach.

The roar of the busy street way down on the ground echoed against the tall buildings nearby, including this one.

"It's not very peaceful," he commented.

"No," I agreed. "It's better at night. Not many people out then." He finally looked up at me though I only saw from my peripheral vision.

"You sit out here a lot during the night?"

"Sometimes," I allowed. We were high enough that you could see the outlining of the beach. I was so close and yet I'd never set a foot in the warm sand. Such a waste. I turned and walked back inside; the sun was giving me a headache. My eyes opened wider as I stepped into the darkened comfort of my apartment. The sliding doors slid shut a few seconds later.

I opened the fridge and found an energy drink. I popped the flap and took a sip. Edward was standing behind and I could feel him roll his eyes at the poor sight of my fridge. The well-stocked one with fresh greens and actually food was gone. In its place; my regular mayhem of limited nutrition.

The stainless steel door slid closed and I turned, leaning against the counter top of the half island.

"What have you thinking so hard on?" I inquired, putting down the can and hopping up. The coolness of the stone made the hairs on my arms stand. Edward leaning back in front of me, expression thoughtful and wary.

"I feel like I owe you an apology."

"You don't owe me anything," I quickly slipped in but he shook his head.

"Yes, I do. You know, I was really pissed when you just left and didn't even tell me. I actually thought-" I cocked my head; waiting for him to finish is internal argument. "I thought you ran – left – because of… because of what I said." It was strange seeing him at a loss for words. He was always confident and knew what to say and when to say it. Never one to put a foot in his mouth.

"I know," I replied evenly; too aware of what he was talking about.

"Even now," he continued, "when I know… I shouldn't act like such an asshole." The corners of my lips twitched. He tilted his head. "Was that a smile?" The ghost of my would-be smile vanished and fought it down.

"No," I said stubbornly. Suddenly he was right in front of me, hands on my knees. Slowly he eased them open and slipped inside me legs. I stayed completely still and tried not to let it affect me that his thumbs were circling the skin of my inner thighs. Albeit only right by my knees but still.

Leaning forward he put his lips at the side of my neck. I shifted my head to give him better access.

"I like your smile," he murmured against my skin; the vibrations making my heart beat faster.

"I hope that's not all you like," I said back quietly.

"There are a few others," he gripped the back of my knees and pulled me towards the edge of the counter. My hands slipped down and held onto the counter so I wouldn't accidentally tumble down. Though with Edward pressing against me the odds of that were slim.

My eyes instinctively slid close as his lips shifted over the hollow of my throat to the other side of my neck. Hands brushed my hair back and lips enclosed around my right collarbone. With my spine still rigid I let my head fall back a little. The softness of his lips on my skin felt amazing. I forced my chest to move in a normal breathing rhythm but I knew he felt my heart race.

His right hand felt up my thigh, tickling my skin. When they stopped at the button of my shorts I felt the build-up of a moan in the deeper parts of my throat. His thumb circled my hip bone and I couldn't help the breathing moan that washed out of my lips.

"I like that sound," he said, continuing our conversation. I had forgotten how to speak. His fingers deftly unbuttoned the metallic clasp and they whispered over the top of my panties before slipping down.

A louder and much more prominent moan erupted from my throat. "And that," he murmured against my neck, below my ear. His fingertips teased me. Touching me but never putting any pressure. Agonizing. Amazing.

Rubbing slow circled on my wetting skin he slid his hand further down and slipped two fingers inside me.

"And this," he breathed into my neck; his lips kissing up and down the length.

"Fuck," I breathed in a moan. My teeth gnawed at my bottom lip and I didn't care anymore that I was breathing so quickly. His hand was wedge between the tightness of my shorts so every time he moved, the heel of his palm slid against my clit and almost made me go insane.

I yanked my left hand up, grabbed the back of his head roughly and crashed his lips to mine. Edward didn't seem to mind my rush and happily pushed against me, rubbing his hand harder. Whimpers vibrated in my throat as our tongues battled together.

It's been so long since I've been thoroughly fucked. I haven't forgotten about the time in my old bedroom but that had been rushed and with the sole purpose of getting off. No I mean fucked as in doing it until we both pass out from exhaustion.

I slid my leg higher up on his waist and he suddenly broke away from my mouth, hand gone.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I breathed and watched him take a steadying breath. I could see the outlining of a large bandaged patch just above his left hipbone. I trailed my hand at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to see the wound. His skin was red but nothing else except the bandage suggested he'd been mortally wounded a few days ago.

"It's okay," he said but his voice betrayed him. I ghosted my fingertips along the sides where tape held the cotton together. He winched. I instantly removed my hand.

"No it's not," I whispered and rose up to claim his lips again. He kissed me back for a little while before breaking off.

"Who shot me?" His tone indicated he only just now thought about this.

"Her name's Jane. She's never been outside a computer lab and I was the lucky one who got to train her."

"Is she good?" I was about to chuckle at the mental image of her trying to hit a thick tree trunk without any success for two hours straight. But I thought against it since she did manage to hit him. A few centimeters off and he'd be dead.

"Better than I thought." He tilted his head.

"How'd you get out of it?" For a moment I thought he might ask me if I killed her but he probably thought better of it.

"I slammed her head into a concrete wall." I said this evenly but with a serious underlying tone. His expression was unreadable. "Does that bother you?" He didn't answer me. Instead he leaned down and captured my lips again. The kiss was rough and felt like old times when we had to hurry.

He was hard against me and our hips rubbed against each other. But we couldn't fuck here. Not against the counter when he could barely handle me touching his side.

Breaking away, I pushed against him. Edward seemed confused but allowed me to hop down. I grabbed his hand and dragged him with me towards the bedroom.

He grabbed the sides of my head and pulled my towards him. I lifted onto my tip toes and continued backing. My back hit the partially closed door. I turned us around so he could sit on the bed. I straddled his lap carefully and we continued kissing.

Taking his hands away from me he heaved himself until he was in the center of my king-sized bed. I've always thought the size was unnecessary. Now I couldn't be happier I had it. I slipped my hands under his shirt and pulled it gently off his frame. I didn't miss the flinch as his left arm move too far up. The cotton flew down the foot of my bed and landed in a heap on the floor. My sweater was next. The thin material flowed down my arms and pooled at my hips.

I was vaguely aware Edward flew the seemingly offensive material away. His hands traveled up and down my arms and I knew he'd seen the bruises. He pushes the white top up and over my head. Edward's hand is immediately at the clasp of my bra and in one smooth move it's gone from my body.

I run a hand through my hair to push it back and push my mouth to his again. His hands are too gently as they feel my back and ribs before landing on my breasts. Moaning into his mouth he kneads them too softly. Sensing my urgency he tweaks my nipples and I can't help the pathetic whimper that bounces around in my throat.

Starting at his jeans button the inner side of my thigh brushed against his ribs and he hissed under his breath. "Maybe we shouldn't do this," I breathed into his mouth. Edward immediately shook his head.

"No, we definitely should do this." The horny side always wins.

I let him crash his mouth back to mine. It felt too good to stop. I continued in unbuttoning his jeans but they didn't go far as my legs stopped them in their tracks. Edward kept my mouth at his. He'd let go of my breasts and tangled his fingers in my hair. The still wet strands shook any remaining hidden drops out on my back, creating an interesting sensation.

Flinging the disruptive hair behind my shoulder Edward kissed my exposed shoulder. His hands went down to my hips and tugged the fabric of my shorts and panties down my hips. I gently gripped his shoulders and lifted one of my legs. He tugged the material down successfully and then did the same with my other leg.

I brought his mouth back to me and our tongues met instantly. His hands found my hips again and forcefully pushed me against him. We both groaned at the teasing touch but I didn't stop rocking against his partially clad form.

I pushed down his shoulders and waited for him to willingly lean back on his elbows. "Don't tear your stitches," I teased against his lips and moved down his body. He hungrily watched as I backed down and brought his jeans and underwear with me. Watching his chest rise and sink rapidly with each delicious pant I slowly sank down and took him in my mouth.

I swear to fuck he got harder.

Swirling my tongue along his head I dripped down and started a rhythm where my hand rubbed up and down on the parts I couldn't fit. Edward's right hand weaved through my hair and I saw him struggled against holing his eyes open. Finally his others side won and he fell back on the bed, moaning and still treading his fingers through my hair.

I teased his head with the tip of my tongue and flicked it rapidly. He hissed and gripped my hair harder. I took as much of him inside as I could and stopped, rubbing my hand up and down quickly.

Just as I knew he was about to cum I pulled away completely. Edward made a disgruntled sound but it quickly turned into a low moan as I straddled his hips and sank down on him. I stopped once he had completely filled me. I knew he felt my weight on his wound but he never said anything or indicated he was hurt.

Instead he leaned up on his elbows and kissed me hard. I started rocking into him, seeing if this would elicit the reaction I was dreading. He groaned into my mouth. Definitely not discomfort.

I started moving faster, but never as hard as I would have liked. I wouldn't even if he grabbed my hips. Which he never did. He kept his right hand on the bed to stead himself against my movements and brought the other to my hair, keeping me locked against him. I suddenly loathed my substantially shorter hair.

The sounds of our pants and moans quickly filled the room. The mattress squeaked with us in the background. My left thigh slid out and away from his side, allowing a deeper penetration. I couldn't contain it anymore. I had to break from his house as I panted incoherent curse words and silent screams.

My stomach tightened almost painfully and my other hand clenched against his shoulder; my nonexistent nails digging into his skin. Biting my lip out of habit I quickened my pace and rocked my hips roughly against his. Licking and kissing lazily down my neck and onto my shoulder, Edward's hand tightened on my thigh. I wondered when he'd put it there but the next second I exploded.

The waves and waves of pleasure and numbness washed over. Instinctively I continued to rock against him but my pace was quickly reclining until we weren't moving anymore. Edward fell back on the bed with a thudded pant. I continued to straddled his hips; feeling him inside me, until I knew I was spent and could fall to his side.

My leg laid lazily over his and ninety percent of my front was prodding into the covers that had somehow managed to stay on the bed. We lay in comfortable silence as we both came down our highs.

"Tell me something," Edward asked suddenly, voice collected. I had been drawing lazy and inconclusive designs into the bedspread. Looking up he had rolled his head to the side and an expression of curiosity littered his face.

"Maybe," I challenged.

"On the beach, after you graduated… you changed your mind very quickly. Why?"

"That's what you're thinking about?" Out of all the times, this was the one that struck him?

"Yes. Will you answer me, please?"

"Alright… I really wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you. And I figured one kiss wouldn't be so bad." He pondered my answer before grinning lopsidedly. I rolled my eyes. "Don't look so smug."

"I can't help it," he admitted with a chuckle. I slapped his shoulder with the back of my hand. Edward grabbed my wrist and quickly slipped us over. His bottom weight crashed into mine and his hands steadied himself on either side of my ribs; thumbs flicking my skin.

"Doesn't it hurt at all?" He rolled his eyes. "You almost died," I reminded him with an internal wince.

"But I didn't," he said in a serious but still teasing tone. He sighed as my face remained impassive. "Why can't you believe me?"

"Cause you'd lie." He nodded thoughtfully at that.

"True." And then his lips were on mine and I forgot what I was thinking.


End file.
